


No heroes, no villains

by Just_a_trickster



Series: No heroes, no villains [1]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Broken Friendship, Confusion, Denial of Feelings, Drama, Explicit Language, Frustration, I REGRET NOTHING, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I am addicted to drama, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Rekkles is a mess, Rivalry, Self-Destruction, Slice of Life, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Love, Violence, did I mention drama?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_trickster/pseuds/Just_a_trickster
Summary: Fnatic and G2 are about to meet again at the Berlin Brawl. Rekkles and Caps can barely look at each other, because of unresolved issues from the past they share.A love story.
Relationships: Martin "Rekkles" Larsson/Rasmus "Caps" Winther
Series: No heroes, no villains [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122779
Comments: 108
Kudos: 110





	1. Gambling it away

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first work, I hope you enjoy it. Comments and criticism are very much appreciated:D
> 
> I sincerely thank my dear friend @thousandblankpages and my boyfriend for beta reading this work and for the immense support they have shown towards me. <3

“Shut up already, Jeez!” Wunder groaned from the backseat of the G2 van. “How don’t you get tired?”

“Fine. My mouth dried up anyway.” Jankos laughed and finally let the monotonous driving send him to the dreamland.

They were driving for almost an hour already for the Berlin Brawl organized by BMW. Although Caps was genuinely having fun with his teammates, now that the mood in the van calmed down, his lips spread into a grim line. For the first time in months, Rasmus was about to see his former teammates. As dreadful as it was, this social distancing had a positive side for him – he was far away from the Fnatic squad and if it was up to him he would never ever face them again. Especially the enemy ADC. Nevertheless, that was part of his job.

The road was a smooth grey river, gently rising up and down beneath the wheels. The world outside the windows was moving like a high-energy theater show, but without the soul it should have. What good enough reason was there under the blue sky, under that perfectly clear dome over, for that show of seamlessly blending colors to seem so lifelessly grotesque? 

Rasmus reached out and felt the leather seat against the tips of his fingers as a wrinkle cut deep between his brows. _Ugh, if I could just run away and never come back,_ the mid laner thought while looking through the window. He slowly began drifting on a memory on the backseat of the car. _Why does it have to be…_

__

__

“ _…this way._ The exit is this way.” Martin mumbled and put his hand of his rival’s upper back to push him gently in the correct direction. During the offseason in January 2020, they went to the cinema together.

Rekkles was salty about Caps’ departure, but after a while, they tried to resurrect what was left of their friendship. To Rasmus’ immense surprise, Martin agreed to meet him. He would have bet his head that the ADC didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Not after the way they separated. And the way they parted ways was the exact reason why Rasmus was so hesitant to reach out to Martin and offer an olive branch. It wasn't a secret to anyone that Fnatic and G2 didn't have a good relationship. But Mithy stepping into to the Fnatic’s coach position meant that all of the drama between the two teams was about to be left behind. The coach started arranging scrims and both teams were about to sign a contract with the same sponsor - BMW, so it was definitely better to find a way to bury the hatchet. 

Moving to G2 was the riskiest move Rasmus had ever taken, but he didn’t regret his decision. He proved numerous times that this was the right choice. It was nothing personal, just business. This was his career after all, winning Words was all he cared about, and G2 seemed to suit his playstyle better. It turned out to be true. Despite everything, he knew he owed his success and fame to his former team and they were right to be pissed off. Two seasons have passed since he left and it looked like he and Rekkles could finally put this behind their back. So yes, he was more than eager to meet his friend from the past and use this opportunity to convince himself that the person, who was still haunting his thoughts, no longer resented him.

One movie later, they found themselves on the almost empty Berlin streets. Snow was dancing under the city lights. A thick white blanket had covered the sidewalk while they were still in the movie theater. Rasmus tilted his head skyward and saw clearly the snowflakes falling from the blackness. Living in the heart of the city, he had grown used to the starless sky. But the perfectly shaped snowflakes tonight were as beautiful as the stars. Other than the darkness and the former teammates, all that seemed to exist was the bitter wind. The frigid air chilled him to the bone. Averting his glance towards Martin, he was sure the blood was running cold in the Swede's veins as well.

“Martin, I am shivering, what do you say we go somewhere warm?” Rasmus could barely move his lips to pronounce those worlds.

“How about we go to the Fnatic office?” The Swede’s hot breath was visible in the moonlight.

What was this ridiculous proposal about?

“Huh?” 

“I am not kidding, it’s close and it’s empty.”

“Yeah, right.” The mid laner scoffed quickly, shaking his head to the extent the freezing weather allowed him to.

“There is no one there in this hour, Rasmus. It’s almost 1:30 past midnight” Martin sighed. “Come on, I am freezing and with this movie night we didn’t catch up at all.”

“Hey, you were the one who suggested going for the last screening of the day!” He tried to laugh to soften his remark, but he couldn't really move his face muscles. Martin was right though, there was obviously no harm in going to the Fnatic office. “Okay, you convinced me.”

“I am very persuasive.” Martin smiled and pushed his numb hand out the pocket of his coat to point the direction they should follow. The snow was crunching under their shoes. “But there’s something appealing to go for a movie at this hour, no?”

Rasmus stepped timidly into his former team’s office. Sure, the building was different, but the atmosphere felt familiar and the mid laner caught himself lost in nostalgia for a second. There was still some decoration left to be done in here, but the office was warm and cozy. While passing through the scrimming room, his eyes landed on Nemesis’ jersey hanged in the middle of the wall above Fnatic’s current mid laner's PC. The same place where once the Dane’s very own jersey was proudly displayed next to Rekkles’. Nemesis was probably sleeping calmly right now in Caps’ former room in the gaming house - the very same place where he spoke privately to Martin for the last time more than a year ago. Suddenly, he felt inexplicably annoyed at that thought, but he forced the feeling away.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Martin’s voice came from the kitchen. “We got rid of the oranges after you left, though. There’s only left over Polish vodka from Oskar’s birthday.”

“You know I don’t drink.” Rasmus simply reminded.

“I do, but I got used to share a drink occasionally with my current mid laner.” Martin joked teasingly. “Tim drinks sometimes.”

Rasmus rolled his eyes. _Tim,_ he thought, _he always refers to his teammates with their first name, but he almost never used mine._

“Hit me then.”

“Are you serious right now?” The Swede leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen, utterly surprised that those words left Caps’ lips. 

“You bet I am.” Rasmus flashed his playful crooked smile at him. Of course, he didn’t want to drink, but his pride didn’t let him quit without putting up a fight in this game of teasing.

“I can offer you a glass of water. There’s no need to prove yourself to me.” Martin smirked. Oh, he was cocky, alright. 

“Huh… Is that what you think?” Rasmus sneered. “Bring the vodka already.”

“Okay then.” Rekkles chuckled and after few seconds he came back to the scrimming room with two glasses and a half empty bottle of vodka. “Let’s move to the living room.”

They sat on the huge grey couch. The Swede filled up the glasses with vodka and passed one to his former fellow.

“Cheers.” 

They locked eyes as the glasses clinked. Rasmus smiled and slowly sipped his drink. He winced as the burning liquid passed through his throat. His body heated up immediately and he felt his cheeks flush. Martin seemed very amused at this turn of events, the surprise was still printed on his face.

“Yep, It’s disgusting.” Caps declared with that first sip grimace, but grinned anyway when he saw Martin enjoying himself. That situation felt like a completely odd dream. He never would have thought in a million years that he would be sitting in the middle of the Fnatic office at 2 AM, drinking vodka with the exactly same ex-teammate, who was so mad and disappointed in him during the same time last year. But then again, he was never in control in Martin’s presence.

As the night progressed, they engaged in a lively conversation. More than one year has passed since they had this much fun with each other. The reunion felt natural, spending time together after so long was refreshing and definitely easier than they would have thought.

“…I was sharing a room with Soaz in Korea, but my sleeping schedule wasn’t the greatest back then. I went to the bedroom at 4 AM or something. I was about to turn on the lights, but I remember that Soaz was sleeping, so I decided to do everything in the dark. I brushed my teeth and went towards my bed. It was our first night sleeping in that room and I wasn’t confident about the placement of its furnishing. I jumped on my bed… but it wasn’t my bed.” Caps was telling the story through tears of laughter, having a blast at the view of Martin cracking up. "Soaz got so scared, it was hilarious."

Martin's smile was pure and joyful as a gift and a sign of a growing bond.

“If only he could see you drinking vodka right now, he will be finally able to die in peace.”

True. Soaz would probably sell his kidney in order to witness that. Rasmus was enjoying life to the fullest right now, but noticing the clock on the wall, he estimated it’s supposedly time to leave. Almost two hours had passed imperceptibly.

“Anyway, I should probably go. I don’t want to waste my whole day tomorrow and go back to that awful sleeping schedule I just told you about.” 

The Dane smiled widely and stood up, but the dizziness almost knocked him back on the couch. Martin’s reaction was swift. He immediately jumped up and caught the mid laner in his arms. Rasmus put his arm on his rival’s shoulder for support and relaxed in his embrace. He didn’t notice how tipsy he had gotten during their conversation. The combination of the late hour, how tired he already was, and the fact that he never drinks, was deadlier than he would have assumed. The alcohol had hit him harder than expected.

“Wow, wow, I think you’re a little bit drunk.” Martin stared anxiously down at Rasmus’ reddened face. 

They were so close to each other that Caps could smell the familiar winter fragrance Rekkles loved wearing during this season. He had missed this scent for so long. His body was fully pressed to Martin’s, his pulse was racing and his head was spinning. There it was. Again. That strange sensation from the past he felt every time Martin innocently touched him, smiled at him or hugged him after a win. There was always something going on between them, but Rasmus was inexperienced and couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was never brave enough to explore exactly what kind of relationship they had back then. Sure, they were friends, but deep down he felt there’s something more for him. Or was there? He never had feelings like this for anyone else before. He had never been in love. _You are not in love. No, you imagine stuff._ Rasmus used to scold himself in his mind in the past. Oh, the flips in his stomach and the sweaty palms were very much real though. Still, he was positive that whatever was going on in his head had various meanings and many different interpretations. He didn’t like the feeling of dread and vulnerability whenever he aimed to find an explanation of that inconvenience. So he used to deeply suppress those feelings for the sake of his well-being, as well as for the sake of his team. He would have never let bullshit of this kind jeopardize the team’s performance. 

However, now was different. He wasn’t a part of that team anymore. The alcohol in his blood made his fears fade away and pushed him to do what he would never do otherwise under no circumstances. Rasmus gave up and submerged into the same sweet tension that had never led to anything else before. Now was the time to act upon it. Sure, it was risky and dangerous, but he couldn’t ignore it anymore. So he just went for it. He rose on his tiptoes and tenderly pressed his lips to Martin’s. The Swede froze, his muscles tensed up, but after a moment, he returned the kiss. The excitement Rasmus felt was incomparable. The sensation stirred the blood in his veins and his pants tightened up. It felt much better than he ever imagined it to feel. The Dane was about to fully melt into the kiss, but then Martin gently backed off.

“Rasmus, I… I’m not gay.” 

“Rasmus, wake up, we arrived.” Perkz’ voice drew him out of his memories. Caps had completely lost his mind some time ago down that grey road. He flinched and opened his eyes. He didn’t even notice that they were shut for the past 10 minutes, while his brain was occupied with the thoughts of Rekkles. The mid laner groaned and got out of the car with a heavy heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaaay, that's a wrap on the first chapter. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think!


	2. Make him the enemy

“Does anyone know if the G2 team has arrived?” Selfmade asked casually, sipping a beer behind his computer.

The Fnatic team was comfortably accommodated in their lounge. Surrounded by four white walls, they had everything needed to pleasantly distract themselves until the start of the event.

“No, why?” Bwipo asked.

“I want to play _Among us_.”

“You play _Among us_ with G2? Since when?” Rekkles’ tone was more reminiscent of a cop who interrogated a criminal, rather than a friend who posed a question to a friend.

“I don’t know. A few days. Not with all of them, just Wunder and Perkz.” Selfmade shrugged, ignoring his nagging tone.

Rekkles was already growing nervous as he impatiently anticipated seeing his former mid laner, but after he found out his jungler was prone to enjoy playing in a party with G2, he became anxious. He didn’t know if the poaching rumors were true, but he preferred Oskar to stay away from Perkz’ swimming pool.

The lounge was very spacious, but suddenly, it felt small. Тhe walls started to close in and suffocate him.

“I’ll be right back.” Martin announced, but no one seemed to pay attention to his words. He left the room unnoticed and walked down the hall. He caught sight of the staff preparing everything necessary for the upcoming event and approached them.

“Hi guys, can I borrow a cigarette and a lighter, please?”

One of the boys took out a pack of Marlboro and handed him a cigarette and a lighter.

“Keep the lighter, it’s almost empty, so I doubt I’ll get much use out of it anyway.” The boy said and smiled.

“Thanks, man.” Rekkles smiled back and headed towards the exit.

Stepping out of the building, the ADC lit the cigarette and closed his eyes to enjoy the smoke filling his lungs to the fullest. In this nice warm August evening, the orange and the magenta of the sunset, spreading wildly over the horizon, merged in the sky like acrylic colors dissolving in water. The last golden rays of sunlight were painting Martin’s skin so warmly. He tried to soak up the serenity of the quietness, yet unsuccessful, with his mind clouded by a fog of exasperation.

He had quit smoking long time ago, but there were these three times during the year when he just needed a cigarette to calm his nerves. And right now, it was one of those times. _I don’t want to see him, not now, not ever_ , Martin thought as he exhaled the smoke out of his lungs. There was bad blood between G2 and Fnatic in the past, they didn’t scrim against each other, they didn’t talk at all, they could barely even breathe the same air. He genuinely believed that wouldn’t change until the day Mithy joined Fnatic - the day when the teams were bound to transition from enemies to rivals.

Still, what a damn idiot Martin was back in January, when he agreed to go out with Caps. Convinced that if he could come to terms with Rasmus, he would finally set his mind at peace. But it got from bad to worse.

Few months after Caps left Fnatic, Martin lied to himself that he was fine with that decision. He could delude himself as much as he wanted, but he was aware deep inside that he had never let go of the salt. The team believed in Rasmus and dragged him out of some stupid third tear league. Rekkles cursed the day that happened. They should have let him rot unknown and never brought him to EU LCS in the first place. If he could just go back in time… They had a bromance, he was his closest friend and he left like a stranger, who gave zero fucks for the past two years. And what for? To join the rivals? _Are you freaking kidding me?_ He hated Rasmus’ guts for that.

 _“Don’t leave!”_ Martin had told him back then.

Rasmus was still dressed in the Fnatic pro kit when they both were standing in the middle of the Dane’s room in the gaming house. Caps' room was always messy, he just used to roll out of bed in the morning, or more like in the early afternoon, and leave it unmade the whole day long. Usually, someone would wake him up with a loud knock on the door, shouting _“Get up, we’re scrimming in 10!”_ , and he would show up with a nest in his hair and toothpaste smear in the corner of his mouth, maybe even with his t-shirt on backwards. He was leaving empty water bottles rolling on the floor and sometimes he used to forget to throw them away for days. Or coins used to fall out of his pockets and he was usually too lazy to pick them up, but that had always come in handy when he needed a little bit of extra cash to pay the pizza delivery guy. He used to throw his phone and keys randomly and the boys always had to wait for him at the doorstep, because he would remember in the last minute he didn’t have those items with him. He used to kick his shoes off in random directions, when they were no longer required, and they were never in pairs, but often far apart in his room.

Some information about Rasmus leaving Fnatic leaked few days ago, but Martin never believed even for a second that could have been true. There were always ridiculous rumors out there and Martin’s attention was never drawn to such toxic bullshit. He was more than certain that if Rasmus wanted to consider leaving the team, his teammates would be aware of that. Rasmus would never leave without letting his team know, they were better friends than that. Then what the hell was their coach talking about those rumors turning out to be true? Just a minute ago, the Swede was reading a book on the couch absolutely unbothered. He was living in a blissful ignorance. Was he the last to know? It seemed that the rest of the team became fully aware of the current inconvenience that very same minute. Martin panicked when he assimilated his coach’s words, who obviously just got the news God-knows-where from. There must have been some kind of mistake, this was just madness, complete nonsense. Martin jumped up and hurried to confront his soon-to-be-former teammate. Forgetting his good manners, he barged into Caps’ room. Rasmus was sitting on his bed and almost dropped his phone on the floor out of surprise.

“Is it true? That you’re leaving?” The ADC asked crossing his arms, but there was no response.

“Damn, we are not even on a rough patch right now, we played on the Worlds finals for fuck’s sake! We are at our peak! Don’t leave!” Martin went on almost yelling at this point.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Rasmus’ voice was low and hoarse.

He brought himself to stand up and face Martin, forcing himself to look him in the eye. Except he couldn’t resist the ADC's gaze and swiftly averted his own head.

 _Good. At least he is ashamed._ Martin made that remark to himself, yet, that thought didn’t relieve him.

It was true, they had their differences and recently they were not on the same page when it came to the gameplay and the strategies. They also had troubles discussing their issues, but every team has these problems occasionally. Rasmus was still quite inexperienced and Martin’s skin was thicker, he was familiar with the difficulties that can occur in the team along the path to success. Usually, the veterans were dealing better with the conflicts. Sometimes for the rookies it felt like being trapped in a vicious cycle. But according to the veterans, this was nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

“I can’t unravel my full potential in this team.” Rasmus went on. He was seemingly trying hard to keep his voice stable as much as possible, so he released a small cough before giving another shot for the rehearsed explanation. “Just…”

“In _THIS_ team?” Martin hissed and cut him off. “ _THIS_ was your team for the past two years! _THIS_ is the team that made you! And what are you talking about? All our strategies in the past two seasons were revolving around you! Zdravets leaves me playing 1v2 on the bot lane, so he can babysit you! And now you don’t give a crap about that anymore?”

“It’s settled, Martin. I was a free agent by the end of November and I’ve already signed a contract with another team.”

The Swede was staring at him in disbelief. Not only did he not announce that ludicrous decision of his, but also he had the audacity to go behind their back and serve the news as done deal?

"This isn’t happening.” Martin flashed his back at the mid laner for a brief moment, mumbling those words more to himself than to Rasmus. The ADC ran his hand through his hair with frustration.

“And what’s the team worthy of your presence?” He continued as calmly as his boiling rage allowed him to.

Rasmus was standing in front of him unable to take his eyes off the floor. At this very moment, the Dane was a looming shadow, a pale imitation of himself, waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him.

“Oh, you’ve got to b-…” Martin whispered as he realized what the mid laner’s answer would be. The Swede clenched his fists, barely suppressing the desire to punch him in the face. The boy was crushing his nerves and pulling his strings like no one ever had. If that was not enough, he had no spine to break the news looking him in the eyes.

“Look at me, Rasmus!”

Caps finally lifted his eyes up to meet Martin’s. The ADC spotted the tears the boy was fighting to hold back. Weird aura of innocence surrounded him in that moment that made Martin soften a little bit. Rasmus did indeed look like a boy, who was being scolded for a reckless deed. A boy so lost, so fragile.

“Why did you have to go behind our back? Couldn’t you just come and talk to us? Come on, Caps! I thought we were better friends than that! I would have listened to you.”

Often than not playfulness and cockiness would take over Caps and he would joke around and laugh. Everything about him was a soft and warm joy. Caps would never cross the line and raise his voice to anyone, and especially not to someone he respected. The youngest one in the team hated conflicts and arguments and he would avoid them at all cost. But at this very moment, he completely lost his temper.

“Do you hear yourself?” Rasmus snapped, tears now streaming down his face. “You are the one everyone listens to, but you listen to nobody! You are stubborn and incapable of change, even if your life depends on it! There is no way one can come to terms with you! You can be the most consistent player in the west and still you’ll be the main cause for the failure of this team! _YOU_ are the reason I am leaving!”

Caps’ voice trailed off as he realized the impact of his words, seemingly wishing he could take it all back.

Every word felt like a poisonous stab in the chest as Martin’s eyes widened with fury. Was this a sick joke? He was furious indeed, his blood was boiling like fire spreading through his veins. The feeling of burning alive from the inside wouldn’t leave him alone. But he knew better. The situation was already out of his hands, there was nothing he could possibly do to change what was done. Due to what must have only been divine self-control, he gritted his teeth against the demand of his body to burst. He struggled to pull himself together, but he was determined to do it, even if it was the last thing he would ever do. Taking a deep breath, he turned his back to Rasmus and stepped towards the door.

“Martin, wait…” Rasmus pleaded, filled with remorse.

He rushed in panic after the ACD and grabbed his hand from behind in attempt to hold him back. The Swede turned on his heels and pulled his arm sharply from Caps’ loose grip. Martin loomed over the shorter boy like a storm cloud. Their noses were almost touching. He looked deep into Rasmus’ eyes, now puffy and red.

“You’re dead to me.”

Martin spat out those words in utter hatred. The last thing he registered before storming out of the room was his former friend breaking down in sorrow, but he couldn’t care less. Despite the mid laner’s pleas, he didn’t look back. 

Martin's eyes landed on the decorative vase in the hall and the only purpose that it served now was to be his release. He furiously punched the vase and crushed it into the wall, finally unleashing his anger. It broke into a million pieces, sharp enough to cut on contact. The glass fragments rained down the wall, scattering everywhere, and now lied still on the wooden floor. Watching them shatter, somehow didn’t release even a part of the rage that had built up inside him.

Martin rushed down the stairs and passed like the wind by his concerned teammates, who were now all heading towards the sound of glass breaking.

“Hey, hey, hey, what happened?” Broxah’s deep worried voice echoed like a background noise behind Martin's back.

Martin’s ears were buzzing loudly. He completely ignored his teammates and kicked the front door open to finally escape this madness. Once he took his first breath outside of the gaming house, he felt a stinging pain. Looking down at his hand, he saw scarlet blood oozing in thick droplets from the wounds on his knuckles. Fucking Rasmus. From now on, he was…

…“ _The enemy_ is standing right in front of us. Be careful, guys!” Jankos’ loud voice brought Martin back to his senses.

Martin just now realized that this horrible memory had carried him away, while he watched the G2 squad getting off their van. His body was still shaking with rage, but he forced himself to calm down. He moved his cigarette to his left hand, so he could shake Jankos’.

“Good to see you, boys.” Rekkles smiled faintly and blew the smoke out of his nose.

“Do you smoke again, Martin? Or you just try to calm your nerves before we kick your ass?” Perkz joked.

“Don’t be so sure about the ass kicking, Luka.” He teased his fellow ACD as he put out his cigarette. “But you’re right about one thing,” He lifted the cigarette butt on Perkz’ eye level. “This was a one-time-thing.”

“Good for you. See you inside.” Luka winked and the gang headed towards the entrance of the building.

The Swede finally looked at Caps. Behind the awkward smile, sadness was written all over his face. A sadness very similar to the one from Martin’s memory. He never saw Rasmus in the gaming house after that last time. When he visited the mid laner’s room after season break, Caps had already vacated it. Martin always thought that this mess of a room looked rather small, but when he saw it empty, sitting in there with hands in his pockets, it felt weirdly large. It felt like someone turned the clock back two years and now this was just a room, waiting for its new owner. There was nothing reminiscent of Rasmus living here once. Nothing, besides a few coins laying on the entrance rug, waiting to send off this visitor that just happened to stop by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are your thoughts and feelings on this chapter? I'd love to read all about them!


	3. What we think, we become

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Yesterday was a sad day for EU, but chin up! China and Korea are looking good, so the finals will be a banger no matter what. I am also excited to see what the future holds for EU.
> 
> That being said, I hope this chapter finds you well!

The moment he stepped out of the car, Rasmus wished he was invisible. Rekkles was pensively smoking outside of the building. This nasty habit never was to Rasmus’ liking and he craved to knock the stupid cigarette out of the ADC’s hand, but he forced himself to smile instead. Because this was what he did the best.

“The enemy is standing right in front of us. Be careful, guys!” Jankos shouted.

It seemed like Marcin’s loud voice startled Martin, who just now noticed that the G2 squad had arrived. He moved his cigarette to his left hand so he could shake Jankos’.

“Good to see you, boys.” Rekkles smiled faintly and blew the smoke out of his nose.

“Do you smoke again, Martin? Or you just try to calm your nerves before we kick your ass?” Perkz joked.

“Don’t be so sure about the ass kicking, Luka.” He teased his fellow ADC as he put out his cigarette. “But you’re right about one thing,” he lifted the cigarette butt on Perkz’ eye level. “This...”

_“…was a one-time-thing.”_

Martin’s words cut Rasmus to the very core. One would think that a hangover would have crushed him with the weight of a million bricks, but no, what crushed him was this painful statement. He got it now. Only a fool in love could be wounded so deep. He was no longer in a position to deny his feelings for Martin, not after last night. The grief from the heartbreak came suddenly like a wave crashing over him. 

Caps opened his eyes to the dim room, though it was daytime, the winter mornings in Berlin were often gloomy. Thank God it was not sunny, because even the gloominess irritated his irises. His mouth was dry, his lips were chapped and now his dehydration was too obvious to ignore. He squinted at the clock on the wall and realized he was still in the Fnatic’s office. _11:22._ Looking around the room, he established, with what felt like the last brain cell in his head, that Martin was nowhere to be found. He sank back to the couch with a loud groan.

“Good morning.”

Rasmus heard Martin’s voice and propped himself up on his elbows with effort. Raising his heavy eyelids half way up, he registered the glass of water in the Swede’s hand.

“Here. Drink.”

"I hope it’s not vodka.” Caps joked and took the glass with gratitude. The ADC’s serious face lit up a little bit at these words, but he still did not look in the best possible shape. A headache was probably cracking his head. His hair was still messy under the hood of his black sweatshirt. He must have woken up not so long ago.

“How do you feel?” Martin asked.

“It’s not as bad as I expected.”

“Well, you’re still very young and the hangover doesn’t hit you that hard.” Martin explained and sat casually on a chair far from Rasmus. “But you were pretty wasted last night.”

The mid laner’s attention was drawn to Martin’s tattoos peeking out under the rolled up sleeves of his hoody. He was nervously scratching his arm like he was trying to scrape the art away. As if Martin noticed Rasmus’ concerned gaze, he released his hands, but couldn’t figure out what to do with them, so instead he put them in the pockets of his sweatpants. 

“You weren’t exactly sober as well.” Rasmus smiled, trying his best to disguise how anxious he felt right now. Seeing Rekkles keeping his distance from him was nerve wracking.

“How much do you remember?” Martin asked cautiously, almost whispering.

Oh, he remembered it all, every single detail right up to the moment he fell unconsciously asleep. With his brain still struggling to recover from the previous night's substance abuse, he weighed his options. He could tell the truth or he could just shrug it off and play dumb. Unable to decide which one was the best alternative, or more like, the least harmful alternative, his mind kept going on and on. Rasmus had kisses before, but not a single one of them could compare to the one from last night. That urge he felt then, to be close to Martin, was not spontaneous or induced by the alcohol. No, he was longing after that thought almost from the first time he met him. He had suppressed that urge for far too long and now that he tasted the forbidden fruit, he could no longer pretend he wasn’t in love with him.

“I remember everything.” He finally said. 

Thick silence filled the room and sent chills down his spine. Only the clock on the wall was monotonously ticking, ominously reminding him that this might be the last time they talk privately.

“This can’t happen again.” Martin sighed and put his fingers on his temples. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t like guys.” 

“But…”

“I am sorry, Rasmus.” He continued apologetically. “This was a one-time-thing.”

“Hey, stop spacing out all day.” Perkz elbowed him. To his surprise, Caps was now sitting in a chair next to the Croatian.

“Huh? What?” Rasmus didn’t even realize how he ended up at a table in the G2 lounge inside the building. All of his teammates were joking around and laughing. 

“Carlos asked if we want a chicken burger after the games.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Is everything okay, man?” Perkz asked with a concerned expression. “You’re starting to worry me.”

“Yes, everything is fine.” Caps hurried to answer. “I got used to being away from people and the quarrel here made me exhausted already.”

There was no way Rasmus could share what was going on in his head with anyone. Not that he didn’t trust his teammates, but honestly he didn’t want to discuss it even with himself. Besides, it was for the best to keep his own fears and worries away from his friends. Fortunately for him, Perkz nodded understandingly and decided it was for the best to give his mid laner some space. Luka was growing up to be a natural leader, one who was able to walk ahead when it was needed to show the path forward, and to walk behind in times of vulnerability, playing a supportive role. This particular split he was patiently walking behind, keeping his distance when necessary, compassionately considering every possible angle of what was happening. So no wonder he was reading the room correctly once again.

“Try not to go to bed late tonight, Rasmus. It’s not like we have much to do after the games here, so you might want to use this as opportunity to get some rest.”

The games were relatively fast. He managed to have fun no matter what and that stopped drawing the attention of his teammates on him. Rekkles exchanged a few words with him out of courtesy, but other than that he didn’t really honor him much. Bwipo and Hylissang were the only ones from his former team to engage in a conversation with him. Catching up with his old teammates relaxed Rasmus and he felt almost as he was his normal-self again.

The BMW staff had arranged a stay in a hotel for the teams so they didn’t have to make their long way back home at this hour. After the event came to an end, the G2 team was mindlessly watching a movie in their lounge until bed time. 

Caps’ sleeping schedule had been a mess for years now. He was still stuck with the bad habit of going to bed at 4 AM and sleeping till noon. So no surprise that the last thing he wanted to do minutes after midnight was going to bed, completely ignoring Perkz’ recommendations. Maybe he could have hanged out with Bwipo and Hilyssang, they had a nice talk today, right? But he couldn’t risk bumping into Rekkles. He was perfectly aware that the Swede wasn’t necessarily happy to see him after half a year. 

He had a short walk before reaching the hotel. It was in close proximity to the building where the games took place. The lobby was classy – brown polished parquet floor, complimented by beautiful orange flowers in tall ceramic vases. He entered the bar of the hotel just to kill some time before the fatigue hit him full on. Whoever ran this place knew their business though; nice subtle music, the dim lights were easy on the eyes, magnificent assortment of chairs around pine tables, mahogany bar. Rasmus felt ridiculously stupid being in such a stylish place in his sweatpants, but he headed to the bartender anyway.

“Hi, can I have a…” What did he want? “I don’t know, something non-alcoholic.”

“I can make you a virgin sex on the beach, what do you say?” The bartender suggested.

“Sounds nice.” Rasmus smiled, there was a lot of fruity flavors in that drink so the proposal was spot on.

“You’re not old enough to drink?” The bartender joked while mixing the cocktail.

“I am actually.” Rasmus laughed. “I just don’t like the taste of alcohol.”

“So no vodka in the cocktail tonight for you.”

“No, no vodka for me.”

He grabbed his drink and sat behind one of the pine tables. Sipping on his cocktail, he noticed Nemesis, who was concentrated on his phone, faintly pushing the glass door of the bar. Fnatic’s mid laner made his way directly to the bar, completely oblivious about his surroundings. Rasmus was sure that even if a plane had landed in the lobby right now, Nemesis still wouldn’t have reacted. The Slovenian sat on a stool and ordered something, still absorbed in his phone. 

_I should go say hi_ , Rasmus thought ready to get up from the chair, but then he saw _him_. Rekkles walked in the bar, his eyes glued to Nemesis’ back like there was no one else in here. Caps sank back in the chair, watching Nemesis putting his hands on Martin’s shoulders and… did what? Did he just kiss his neck? Did Martin just push his fingers in his mid laner’s hair? What was going on? Rasmus’ mind went foggy, he was still unsure how that sight made him feel. The guys quickly drank something in shot glasses and left. 

As if Rasmus wasn’t in control of himself anymore, he weakly got up and his legs directed him towards the boys. He had a concentrated look, the same when he was playing a serious game of _LoL_ – eyebrows brought together, wrinkled forehead, pursed lips. There was something puzzling in his walk, like he was being weighted down and his muscles were struggling to compensate for his sudden loss of rationality. He followed them, or rather sleepwalked behind them, to a club near the hotel and watched them strolling inside. He stopped at a safe distance away from the bouncer, hesitating. _What am I doing?_ Driven by some kind of strange irritation, he obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. Rasmus held his breath and shook his head to banish the wild and irrational thought to join them inside. So what if Nemesis and Rekkles went out together? They were teammates, they were probably friends, so why not? And nothing more than a professional connection was linking Rasmus to those guys. This was none of his business. Then why the hell was he so curious to see what was going on inside? He was not supposed to care, but how, how does one just not care? 

He was sitting in front of the club for almost 10 minutes, trying to give some sense to the way he was acting. Why did he never feel like himself when it came to Rekkles? He took out his ID, showed it to the bouncer and went inside. The music was deafening, the vibrations from the bass were hurting his chest. Through the flashing colorful lights, he spotted the boys sitting at the bar having the time of their life. Then Martin lifted his hand and brushed Nemesis hair with his fingers. What did he expect to see? Them, fighting each other? 

Awfully agitated, Rasmus hurled to the bathroom and took a glance in the huge mirror. His eyes roamed critically from his dark circles to the little wrinkle between his eyebrows. Clutching tightly to the sink for support, he looked at his reflection and couldn’t help but think: _Who are you?_ He felt ridiculously stupid for the second time that night. Why did he follow them? What was he thinking? Like some unknown entity finally knocked sense in him, he decided to leave. He started washing his hands out of habit when the door behind his back opened and let the loud music inside. He caught Nemesis’ reflection in the mirror. Only a spark in his rival’s eyes gave away the surprise he felt when he saw Rasmus in the restroom. The door closed behind Nemesis’ back and the music was muffled again.

“Hello, Caps.” Nemesis stopped for a second behind him. “You and your team can come join us, if you want. I am here with Martin.” The Slovenian suggested kindly. 

Okay, so he assumed Rasmus was here with his teammates. Nemesis was already visibly tipsy and in a good mood. 

“Thanks, but we were just leaving.” Rasmus lied while wiping his hands with a paper towel. He gave Nemesis a smile as sincere as the circumstances allowed him to. 

“That’s probably for the best. Martin gets touchy when he gets hammered and your hair is nicely combed.” Nemesis joked in a friendly manner as he headed to one of the stalls. 

“Oh, you would perfectly know that.” Caps’ annoyance grew again and forced him to make this foolish remark. 

Nemesis turned around to glance at him slightly confused and Rasmus sensed that he overstepped some boundaries. _What am I? The biggest idiot on this planet?_ He thought not even sure who he was more annoyed at – Nemesis, Rekkles or himself.

“And why would I know that?” The Slovenian asked suddenly entertained.

“I don’t know, haha… It’s usually obvious to the eye he likes touching your hair. He’s not good at hiding it.” Rasmus shrugged and smiled as if it wasn’t a big deal. He tried to do some damage control here and present himself like the friendly guy he was. But it was hard to pretend.

Nemesis crossed his arms and looked at him with a weird intensity, but his face still was somewhat unreadable. He looked like he was trying to solve complex math problems while being on two large whiskeys.

“Luckily, he’s good at other things.” The Slovenian finally said and winked slyly before entering one of the stalls. “See you around, Caps.”

The Dane got stunned by that statement. He groaned after he put himself together and left the bathroom quickly. On his way to the exit, he noticed that the rest of the Fnatic roster had joined Rekkles. They were all laughing like this was their last day on Earth.

He stepped outside of the club and if his cheeks weren’t burning up with irritation, he might have felt that the temperatures had dropped quickly while he was inside. He returned to the hotel and went straight to his room, regretting that he didn’t listen to Perkz’ advice to go to bed earlier for once. Obviously, this would be one of those nights when his restless brain won’t leave him at peace. He stripped down and kicked his clothes aside while heading to the shower. The water poured down boiling hot, steam filled the shower cabin. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, wishing he had never left the hotel in the first place. His mind was in shreds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter managed to entertain you! Thanks for reading!


	4. Disengage

The event emotionally drained Martin. Although he dropped dead on his bed, expecting the fatigue to knock him out immediately, five minutes later, he was still staring at the ceiling fully awake. At that moment, he knew this was going to be a long night.

The games were goofy and silly, of course none of the players cared about them. However, when Rekkles faced Caps in ARAM, he couldn’t refrain himself from bm-ing the mid laner. True, it was petty and childish, but this was exactly what he needed to blow some steam off. The frustration from that ugly memory had built up inside him and now it was eating him alive. And frustration itself in general was blocking his welfare. In the past years, he managed to keep it all under control. He would have taken measurements directed to solve the core problems – he tried to work it out with a therapist and focus on the positive sides of his life. Martin knew he was hard-working, competitive and dedicated to his career. Being aware that the competition recognized him as a valuable player, and as the ADC that every single team would love to have by their side, was helping him not to beat himself up all the time. Every attempt to overcome his weaknesses certainly brought him closer to the goal to let go. The gym, the meditation, the PC games, the bonding with his teammates, the casual nights out, the long talks with his friends and family in Sweden – every single one of those things drew him away from his concerns and made him genuinely happy. Those were the days when he was confident enough that he left the past behind.

But during nights like this particular one, when his mind just didn’t shut off, he was afraid he was falling down the rabbit hole once again. He was perceiving the source of bitterness to be out of control, leading to problematic behavior that was sometimes directed towards other people or even towards himself. The easier choice to vent it out was usually a sweet relief, and as much as he wished to take it all back after the damage was done, at the very moment when the frustration was hitting hard, it just seemed impossible to miss the opportunity. 

Then again, ever since Rasmus left and planted the seed of doubt, Martin was often feeling this way around him - like he was slowly going insane. With time the Swede’s mind started to play tricks on him and every loss against G2 reminded him that maybe the feeling of unworthiness was not provoked by a broken pride’s delusion at all. Moreover, every loss against G2 reminded him that Rasmus was right to leave and search for a team with better chances to win Worlds.

The doubt was creeping repeatedly up his mind… as long as he was a professional player, there was no way he could let go of the grudge he was holding. He wanted nothing more than to take away the power of the painful fears and prove to himself that he could choose to move on.

 _Why does this still bother me so much?_ He thought sullenly. _Maybe I need a drink to settle my nerves, something strong like a glass of vodka. Huh…_

The last time he drank vodka things went out of control. If he closed his eyes, his mind still could perfectly illustrate Rasmus’ drunk expression – his flushed cheeks, his unfocused eyes, his uncoordinated gestures, his slurred speech. That night he fell in Martin’s arms like dead weight.

_“Wow, wow, I think you’re a little bit drunk.”_ The Swede said back then. 

Martin got scared for a moment. He was also under the influence and wasn’t sure he would be able to take care of himself, let alone to take care of another person. The ADC felt Caps’ hand grabbing his shoulder for support, so he decided it’s best to tighten his grip and to make sure the Dane won’t slip out of his arms and hit the ground. Martin looked down at his rival’s burning face in attempt to make an eye contact since he wanted to assess exactly how hammered Rasmus was. And there he was, fully intoxicated for the first time in his life, he looked completely lost in his head.

 _What’s going through his mind, is he daydreaming?_ The Swede thought and then he noticed Rasmus flashing his wandering gaze between his lips and eyes. Martin’s body became stiff when he felt the mid laner’s lips on his own. He was caught off guard so he returned the kiss automatically, but the reality of his actions hit him a moment later. He gently broke the kiss, but still left his body pressed to Rasmus’ for support. 

“Rasmus, I… I’m not gay.” Martin whispered. _Is he really that bashed?_

Rasmus sighed and rested his head in the crook of the ADC's neck. 

“Martin…” He breathed out his name and the Swede felt his hot breath against his own skin. 

“Yeah?”

“…you’re hard.”

Damn, he was right. Martin didn’t notice at first, but now that Rasmus brought his attention to the subject, he became aware of his boner raging in his pants against the mid laner’s hip. Another thing, that Martin was ignoring up until now, was the fact that his heart was racing in his chest, threatening to break his ribs. He broke out in a cold sweat.

To be honest, it wasn’t a lie. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Martin just was not attracted to guys. However, this wasn’t some random guy, this was… Caps. The ties that bind people are sometimes impossible to explain and something unclear has always been happening between them. Maybe it was about their late bromance, maybe it was about the drama they shared from the past, but Rekkles always had a soft spot for him. He almost hated himself for that, but at the end of the day, it was true. His friend from the past had always brought the best and the worst out of him. There was no one else in the world who made him experience such powerful polar emotions, sometimes even all together. When he was in Caps’ presence, he was either high up in the sky or he was burning in hell. Perhaps this was exactly why the closeness of his body didn’t feel wrong. On the contrary - it felt quite arousing. 

Rasmus shook his head slightly and Martin felt his soft hair brushing lightly against his neck and chin. This simple move sent shivers down his spine and he tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Rasmus raised his head and fixed his gaze on Martin’s face. The Dane’s confused expression gave away that he didn’t know what to expect at all. That was enough to make Martin’s heart skip a beat. He had never been as terrified as he was at this moment. Moreover, he had never been as turned on as he was right now. 

It was so quiet that he thought he had gone deaf. Dead silence had filled the room for the past few seconds. Time stood still. Outside there was no traffic or people at this ungodly hour. Out of the window, the snowflakes were silently piling on the ground. As if Martin had suddenly regained his ability to hear sounds, he started listening to the clock on the wall marking every second, taking him away from sanity. 

Martin frantically searched for a sign that this was actually a crazy dream, but despite being wasted, his whole body felt awake. He finally snapped and kissed Rasmus firmly. Taking a deep breath through his nose, the mid laner moaned against Martin’s lips and slid his tongue in his mouth. This simply made the Swede go crazy, he slipped his hands under the Dane’s shirt, pulled it over his head and gently pushed him on the couch. Rasmus’ hands desperately pulled him over himself. Martin cupped his face and kissed him again. Then he moved down his neck and let his hands roam all over his body. A moment later, the ADC felt Caps’ hand sliding down his pants and carefully grabbing his dick. The Swede twitched and squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure. He was about to burst any second now. It was for the best to pull himself away. They were both breathing heavily without taking their eyes off each other.

“Have you done this before?” Martin asked huskily. His voice had dropped low with arousal. 

“No.” Rasmus answered, shaking his head slightly and this was enough to bring Martin back to reality. 

_Am I out of my mind? What am I doing?_ He thought and a part of him just wanted to go back in time and decline the Dane’s offer to meet.

“We are both very drunk… Maybe this is not a good idea.” Martin shook his head. As fired up as he was, he just couldn’t take away his virginity. He was about to stand up, but then Rasmus grabbed his wrist, eyes full of longing.

“I want this. I have been waiting for this to happen for so long.” 

Martin wasn’t exactly sure what the other guy meant, but there was no time to analyze that sentence. He was rock-hard and too weak to say “no” twice, so he let the moment take over him and took off the mid laner’s pants. Martin wasn’t even thinking when he reached out for the bottom drawer next to the couch, where he knew Oskar was keeping a bottle of lube. The Swede covered his fingers with a generous amount of lube and rubbed them onto Rasmus’ hole, who shut his eyes in anticipation. Martin slid a finger inside and then a second one. Caps whimpered adjusting to the feeling. At first, Martin was slow, easing his fingers in and out. He was surprised at how he hadn’t cum just yet, because Rasmus’ reactions were enough to get him off. Then the mid laner became less tight around his fingers. This was a sign for the Swede that he was ready to move on. He directed his dick to the boy’s entrance, but hesitated for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. They locked eyes as Martin pushed in slowly. A gasp escaped their lips. He slowly went balls deep inside Rasmus as he waited for him to adapt to his size. 

“Are you okay?” Martin asked quietly, unable to take his eyes off him.

“Yeah…” Rasmus responded almost inaudibly. 

The Dane ran his fingertips down the back of Martin’s neck and pulled him for a kiss. As if Martin’s hand had a will of its own, he grabbed Rasmus’ hard cock and gently started moving up and down. They were kissing passionately during the initial slow thrusts. When Martin was sure the mid laner was comfortable and relaxed enough, he picked up the speed. Rasmus, who was already a moaning mess, looked so beautiful all spread out underneath him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that the both of them felt exceptionally good, but that night they were loud. 

As he thrusted into him, he took a good look at Rasmus, whose eyes were now rolling back in his head with pleasure. _Am I hitting the correct spot?_ That thought almost caused his own orgasm.

“Martin, it’s… right there.” The Dane said with a breathy and husky voice. 

Rasmus’ whole body tensed as he shot his load over himself and that sight sent Martin over the edge as well. He emptied his balls inside his rival and it was like he came for the first time in years. At once, the Swede felt lightheaded and weak at the knees. He slowly pulled out his cock and dropped on the couch next to the mid laner. The last thing he felt, before he fell into a dreamless sleep, was Rasmus’ arm around his waist.

The cum was dripping down Martin's right hand that was wrapped around his cock. His chest heaved as he struggled to control his breathing. More than half a year had passed since then, and yet that memory still got him off like nothing else. 

_What the damn hell is happening to me?_

Martin was desperate to empty his mind. There was no point in pining after the mess in his head. He had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well... Rekkles seems to be very confused. What do you think about that?
> 
> Happy Halloween and thanks for reading!


	5. Eye for an eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everybody! Welcome to another chapter! I am trying something new here, let me know what do you think!

The Berlin Brawl was over and after he grabbed a bite with his teammates, Tim went to his hotel room to chill. He took a quick shower, installed himself on the armchair next to the window and turned on the TV out of sheer boredom. He bluntly stared at the screen, barely following the plot of the movie that was on. The crumbs from the Oreo biscuits he was munching on started to irritate his naked thighs and he casually brushed them away. Now that the Oreo pack was empty, he no longer had interest in watching the movie. He took his phone from the coffee table close to him and began scrolling through his social media.

A weak knock on the door made Nemesis shift his eyes from his Twitter to the right corner of his OnePlus. _Fifteen minutes after midnight…_

He quickly locked the phone and gently threw it onto the bed as he jumped from the armchair. Feeling too lazy to put his sweatpants on, he decided that he doesn’t give a damn and open the door only wearing his underwear.

“I knew you were awake.” Martin declared and walked himself into the room.

“I would be surprised if you don’t know me by now.” Tim raised his brows and shut the door. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah, and I decided to take the most of that situation.” The Swede replied with a quirky smile, falling in the same armchair Tim was sitting a minute ago.

Rekkles was acting strange all day, but now he seemed like a totally different person. He was relaxed and playful, nothing was left of the solemn tensed guy who was wandering around earlier today. Tim was sure Caps had something to do with his gloomy mood. The Slovenian was familiar with the story told from Fnatic’s perspective and he was aware that there were days when the salt came back to Rekkles with a bang. Especially on the days he had to face his former mid laner. But right now, seeing him sitting in the chair all loosened up with an eager smile, Nemesis was enjoying this view way more.

“What are you up to?” Tim asked and threw himself on the bed.

“What do you say you put your pants on and go out for a drink with me?” 

Nemesis propped himself up on one elbow and raised his eyebrows. Here’s the thing. From an outsider’s perspective, on the surface Nemesis looked like an emotionless, unapproachable, asocial weirdo, who had only one passion in life – playing games. In a way that was true - but his friends knew him better. Once he let his guard down, he was a nice friendly boy one can always count on. Being eager to engage in social activities like playing DuoQ or having a brunch with his friends made it easy for his previous teammates to maintain a good relationship with him. Speaking passionately about the things he loved and memeing around were characteristics of his that most of the guys in the community considered fun. But Tim wouldn’t let anyone in. Of course, this didn’t apply to his current teammates. He was ready to have fun with them anytime.

“I have nothing better to do anyway.” He replied with a shrug. 

“Okay, here’s my proposal.” Martin started. “We go to the club down the street and get spectacularly drunk, and by drunk I mean needing-subtitles-when-we-speak drunk.” 

_He needs to unwind._ That thought provoked excitement in the mid laner. _I can use a little bit of unwinding myself._

Rekkles was one of those people who liked to go early to bed, get a good rest and have a productive day that starts from early in the morning. Nonetheless, these few times during the year when he went out to party, he liked to go hard.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Tim chuckled. He wasn’t a huge fan of clubs, but once in a while he didn’t mind it much, especially after being behind closed doors for so long. After the tough start of the season, he really needed to loosen up a bit.

“I’ll go freshen up then.” The ADC said and pushed himself out of the chair.

Nemesis laid eyes on his friend. Sure, he was wearing black sweatpants and his plain white t-shirt – with a subtle small Fnatic logo – was a little bit wrinkled, and frankly, the dark circles under his eyes made him look slightly paler, but he looked as handsome as ever.

“You look perfectly fine to me.” Tim simply stated. “Plus, judging by your damp hair, I can say for sure that you just took a shower. And we have no other clothes here besides the Fnatic gear.”

“I’m not gonna change, I’ll just shave and apply cologne. The beard irritates my skin when I wear a mask.” Martin explained on his way out.

“Fine, I’ll be waiting in the lobby bar downstairs.” 

Tim lazily pushed himself out of the bed to put on his sweatpants and soon after fixing his hair in the mirror, he left the room. Taking the OnePlus out of his pocket, he opened the chat with his teammates and faintly pushed the glass door of the bar. Walking and texting was never a problem for him.

Tim: _Martin and I are planning to have a few drinks in the club next to the hotel. If you losers are still awake, you should consider joining us._

When he lifted his gaze up from his phone, he was already sitting on a high stool in front of the bartender.

“Two shots of tequila, please.” He placed the order.

“Right away.”

The bartender seamlessly poured the transparent liquid in shot glasses and put them in front of the mid laner, who was still fixated at his phone, scrolling through his Discord. A hand squeezed his shoulder gently and he spun around on his stool. The scent of Rekkles’ cologne was heavenly good, it got him high.

“You smell so good!” Tim’s eyes popped and he couldn’t restrain himself from shoving his head in the ADC’s neck. “Oh my God, tell me what you’re wearing!”

“You like it? It’s new.” Martin grinned and ruffled tenderly his friend’s hair. “Are we warming up?” He went on, shifting his eyes from the drinks to Tim, who already was handing him one of the shots. 

“Yep. Cheers.” Tim said and raised the shot glass.

“Okay, let’s go. Enough wasting time!” Martin smiled widely at Tim and patted him gently on the back to get him off the stool.

As soon as they got out of the hotel, they heard loud music from afar. The song that was playing got louder and brought an insta-smile on Tim’s face. Laughter rang in his ears and couldn’t seem to stop when Rekkles also recognized the song . The music theme tonight was obviously dance covers of popular songs.

“Oh dear lord, it’s the song that blasts all the time in Oskar’s headphones.*” Martin said. “Those lyrics are completely incomprehensible, I swear!”

The boys joined the half-crowded club and made their way to the bar. It was almost impossible to hear anything else over the roar of the music. It was loud as a thunder, it made the glasses on the bar surface rattle.

“So you said you wanna go hard tonight.” Tim bent over Martin and shouted in his ear.

“Damn right.” 

Tim smirked and turned to face the bartender.

“Excuse me miss, could you bring us 10 shots of tequila, please.” 

Rekkles flashed a sly smile.

“I’ll have the same.” 

_He was not kidding_ , the Slovenian thought and laughed. Not that he was going to drink more than 2-3 shots anyway. But their mood fired up and they were ready to party hard. 

“Those songs would have sent Oskar over the moon. Such a bummer he’s not here, he would have loved that club.” Rekkles stated and lifted his hand to remove something from Tim’s hair. Probably a leaf.

“I’ve already texted them in the group chat. If they are still awake, they may come.” He shouted bringing out his phone to check for new messages, but there were none. 

Squinting his eyes at the bright light from the screen, Nemesis sensed that the alcohol was starting to have impact over his body. His vision got slightly blurry. He realized he was decently tipsy at the point he became aware Rekkles was half way through some silly story from his childhood. While straining his ears to hear what his ADC was recounting about, the urge to pee came on suddenly. He excused himself and stumbled towards the restroom. Opening the door he blinked shocked for a moment at the view of Caps washing his hands. Well that was a sight, he didn’t quite expect to witness right now, but he managed to pull himself together fast and greet his rival.

“Hello, Caps.” Nemesis stopped for a second behind him. “You and your team can come join us, if you want. I am here with Martin.” The Slovenian suggested kindly, assuming the Dane was here with the G2 squad. 

“Thanks, but we were just leaving.” Caps smiled and rejected the offer while wiping his hands with a paper towel. 

“That’s probably for the best. Martin gets touchy when he gets hammered and your hair is nicely combed.” Nemesis joked friendly as he headed to one of the stalls. But Caps’ annoyed voice made him postpone the need to take a leak.

“Oh, you would perfectly know that.”

Irritation was written all over the Dane’s face when Tim turned around to glance at him. This was the first time he saw his rival snapping at someone, usually Caps was very friendly. However, nothing could have ruined Tim’s excellent mood right now.

“And why would I know that?” He asked entertained.

“I don’t know, haha… It’s usually obvious to the eye he likes touching your hair. He’s not good at hiding it.” Caps shrugged and smiled as if it wasn’t a big deal. Suddenly he almost looked like his usual self. _Almost._

 _Interesting…_ , Tim thought, crossing his arms. Caps was the best mid laner in Europe and he allegedly was the one who made G2 the greatest team in the West. He won the European championship 5 times in a row, he was World’s finalist twice, and half of those achievements he reached with Nemesis’ current team. The fans loved him, the casters promoted him, heck even Oskar implied few times that he was the best. As much as he hated admitting this, all those stacked up loses against him got under Tim’s skin. The Fnatic-G2 rivalry was the greatest one not only in Europe, but maybe in the whole history of _League of Legends_. However, both teams were getting along just fine nowadays. But there were times when the G2 squad had been openly saying on streams and interviews that Nemesis was overrated and could not compare to their teammate. Sometimes Tim could have sworn that they just didn’t respect him at all, maybe even slightly loathed him. Tim never denied the fact that Caps was the best, he didn’t even have a problem pointing out his great qualities. But it would have been a lie if he claimed that deep down he didn’t envy him. More often than not, he was annoyed at how hyped up Fnatic’s ex-mid laner was, always in the spotlight. Well yes, he had all those reasons to envy Caps. Yes, basically Caps had it all. But he didn’t possess something that Nemesis had – a good relationship with Rekkles. On this very spot, Tim realized… _He is jealous._

_♫Fuck you, and you, and you,  
I hate your friends and they hate me too. ♫_ **

Tim paid attention to the lyrics of the song that was on. That, in combination with the realization that just had hit him and the alcohol that was already kicking in, pumped up the synthesis of serotonin in his body. He felt that, for the first time, he was the one who had the upper hand over Caps. _What a time to be alive._

“Luckily, he’s good at other things.” Tim winked slyly at his rival before entering one of the stalls. “See you around, Caps.”

The Slovenian pushed down his sweatpants and tried to focus on the task to aim for the toilet bowl. Those words must have bummed Caps out. He was nowhere to be found, when Tim left the restroom. With a last smirk, he made his way to the bar. Тhe delightful sight that unfolded before his eyes made him question how long he had been gone. Bwipo, Hylissang and Rekkles were laughing their asses off as Selfmade was shouting the lyrics of the song playing right now. For a short while, Tim intended to share the news of his encounter in the bathroom. But glimpsing at Martin’s cheerful face, he got determined to spare him that nuisance. Instead of telling him, he just put his arm on the Swede’s back, as an uplifting thought crossed his mind. _Fuck Caps indeed. We are rivals, not friends. I owe him nothing._

“SOO YEEEEEAH, WE’RE GOING DOWN!” – Selfmade continued screaming and twirling on the dance floor like a goofball. Right now, the jungler belonged fully to the music.

“What should we order guys?” Hylissang asked with a wild smile.

“Something that will get us down pretty fast, we need to catch up.” Selfmade exclaimed.

“You guys are fast, I didn’t expect you to come here so soon.” Tim said, feeling a whole range of emotions, not showing most of them per usual.

“Well, Oskar and I were awake and-” Zdravets began, but he was interrupted by Bwipo.

“And L9 here,” Bwipo emphasized while wrapping his hand around Oskar's shoulder. “woke me violently up with a loud knock on my door.”

“Oh, okay grandpa, forgive me for actually being cool.” The jungler sarcastically remarked, but smiled anyway. “Come on, place the order already!” 

_♫ All the right friends in all the right places. ♫_ ***

The song continued blasting. Looking at the guys melting into the beat of the party, Tim couldn’t help but feel that he was indeed in the right place with the right friends now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaay, so this chapter was inspired by a playlist that Selfmade had listened to a few times on his stream. XDD  
> * SAINt JHN - Roses (Imanbek Remix)  
> ** blackbear - hot girl bummer (Fella remix)  
> *** OneRepublic - All The Right Moves (Arcando & Oddcube Remix)
> 
> Did you expect this turn of events? I know some of you did!


	6. The morning after

Death was just another path to walk and he had always thought it was our last. The girl was lying on the street in a pool of blood, trying to take her last breath. She was not here, no. She was in another world, a menacing world of suffering with no air to breathe. The lack of oxygen nested in her mind in panic, as she desperately sucked in another breath that only seemed to burn her lungs. His trembling hands were pressing her abdominal wound, hot blood was draining out between his fingers, soaking in the cotton fabric of his sweatpants. Becoming aware that she waited resignedly for her final moments to come, the terrifying panic grew even more in him. He looked up at the low dark sky like he was about to pray for the first time in his life. The sky imparted a claustrophobic tension. Through the mist of tears, he could barely discern the dry branches of trees, stretching like bony fingers for something invisible in the darkness. Something that was not there. Not there at all.

Zdravets woke up as if it was an emergency, startled by the sound of his alarm. Covered in cold sweat, he was panting heavily, gasping desperately for every airflow. 

Lately, he was on a rough patch with his girlfriend. The pressure of the season caused malfunctions in heaven. Their relationship was going through crises and pointless quarrels. He couldn’t even remember what they were fighting for. It seemed like even pleasant distractions with his friends couldn’t take his mind off of the girl he still loved more than everything.

Getting out of bed so quickly caused his blood pressure to drop and his vision to blur. He lost balance and leaned against the wall until the black spots were gone. Dragging his feet to the shower, Zdravets felt that he had needed the last night with his friends more than he assumed. The sensation of the steamy water calmed him a little bit, it took his mind off of things. For now, he had to get some food in his system and stabilize himself as fast as possible.

He went down to the restaurant for breakfast and noticed that Jankos, Perkz and Caps were already eating on a round table next to the buffet. After last night, the rich breakfast didn’t seem that appealing for Zdravets. He was a picky eater anyway, so he only put some scrambled eggs on a plate and poured himself a cup of coffee. He was being extra cautious not to stumble while he was making his way towards the G2 table.

“Good morning, guys.” The Bulgarian greeted faintly.

“It’s not good though!” Jankos groaned dramatically. “I am having the worst morning in my life. First, I couldn’t sleep at all, I woke up too early and hit my elbow. Then, I came here to eat some cereal, but there was no almond milk. Or any other milk that I drink. And I also ate too many berries and I didn’t want to eat that many barriers. And now we’re about to go home and I’ll int SoloQ, because I’m having a bad morning.”

“Yeah, that’s the reason why you’ll int SoloQ.” Selfmade’s amused voice came behind Hylissang’s back. He and Rekkles walked to the table, but only Rekkles sat down. All of the boys were laughing at Jankos’ obnoxiously loud rambling and Selfmade’s glorious arrival at the table. Well, all of them besides Caps. Zdravets noticed that the mid laner’s grin was suddenly wiped away.

“Hey Martin, do you want something?” Oskar asked, heading to the buffet.

“Just coffee, thanks.”

“Wow, guys, you seem to lack appetite. Don’t make me worry about your health. Hyli here eats less than his girlfriend.” Perkz teased, pointing at the support’s almost empty plate. The unexpected mentioning of his girlfriend hurt Zdravets a bit. Last night was not the only reason he was lacking appetite after all.

“They’re just hungover. They drank shots at the club last night.” Selfmade said, handing a cup of coffee to Rekkles.

“Oh, was Hyli your wingman, Martin? Did he do a good job helping you pick up girls?” Perkz smirked.

“Pff, like he needs help." Zdravers answered with a sly grin. "Have you seen him? He can have every girl he wants.” 

“Hell, he can have me!” Perkz joked.

“Gachigasm!” Bwipo exclaimed, joining the table with a plate full of food.

“He can’t have me!” Jankos proudly declared while picking what looked like a half a croissant with his fork and shoving it in his mouth. “I am saving myself for Miky.”

“Oh, I can have you if I want you.” Rekkles mumbled under his nose. He was visibly getting shy, but he was enjoying the compliments anyway.

“You should at least buy me a couple cocktails first.” Jankos cried out, still chewing on the croissant.

Caps was unusually quiet, he was just playing with his food with an awkward smile. _What happened to him? This is not how I remember him,_ Zdravets thought. The Dane was always the one joking around, lighting up every room he entered with his humor, good mood and likable personality. But right now, he looked strangely down.

“You clowns, calm down. Unfortunately for you, Rekky is not into guys.” Selfmade interrupted the jokes and laughed. “Also he did the job of picking girls by himself. He always does.”

“Oh, yeah?” Perkz smiled and sipped from his coffee. “Did you take her to your room? Is she upstairs?”

“No, he did her in the restroom of the club.” Selfmade answered instead and Perkz and Jankos’ eyes popped in surprise. 

“Classy.” Perkz smirked.

"Okay, enough.” Martin said sharply and glanced with an odd uncertainty at Caps, who now couldn’t even force that fake awkward smile anymore.

It was obvious for Zdravets that something unusual was going on, so he decided to play the good guy in the story and ask. Obviously, the mid laner was acting strange.

“Is everything alright, Caps?”

“Ugh… yeah.” He finally lifted his gaze from the plate. “I just remembered I forgot to pack my stuff. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you later.”

Caps didn’t even wait for a response, just stood up and walked away, leaving his food almost untouched. 

“What’s with him?” Bwipo asked, chewing on a piece of bread.

“Hangover most likely.” Nemesis sat on Caps’ seat on the round table and pushed his plate away to make a room for his own.

“What do you mean _hangover_? He never drinks.” Perkz turned to Nemesis surprised.

“Isn’t it what you did last night in the club?” Nemesis asked casually. The mid laner was looking so tired, like he had lost his will for life. 

“What are you talking about? We spent the night in our rooms.” Jankos shouted. 

Zdravets could have sworn the jungler’s only purpose in life was to compete with himself in the producing of noise. Jankos’ voice echoed in the support‘s skull that was a cage of pain right now. 

“Strange.” Nemesis said, showing no emotion whatsoever. “I thought he was with you in the club.”

“He was in the club last night?” Rekkles’ cup almost slipped out of his hands. Some coffee spilled on the table.

“Yeah, I saw him in the restroom.” Nemesis shrugged. He was too focused on his plate to care about showing any concern in the mystery.

“Well, that is strange indeed.” Perkz mumbled, immersed in thoughts.

For a while everyone stayed silent. Bwipo, Jankos and Selfmade decided to break the awkward silence and started joking about something that Zdravets didn’t care about enough to listen to. Perkz and Nemesis finished their breakfast in silence, becoming self-conscious of the act of eating itself. Rekkles was staring down at his coffee for a while, he seemed like he totally forgot to drink it. 

One by one the guys left the restaurant to prepare for check out. At the agreed upon time, Zdravets walked out of the hotel, threw his bag in the Fnatic van and sat on the sidewalk. He took out his phone and glared at his girlfriend’s picture on the display. It was ridiculous, they were together for years, always standing by each other’s side no matter what. They had to make it through.

“You okay, Hyli?” Caps' voice came from somewhere. The mid laner sat on the sidewalk next to him.

“Ugh yes, just girl problems.” Zdravets answered, scratching his head. “It’s nothing.”

Caps looked at him and raised a brow. 

“Hey, I am sure you will solve whatever problems you have with your girlfriend.”

“How can you be so sure?” The Bulgarian asked, pushing his glasses up.

“I’ve never had the chance to get to know you outside of that relationship, but it seems to me that you’re the best version of yourself when you are with her.” Caps smiled encouragingly at him. “I am certain you will not blow that off for some bumps on the road.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe Zdravets still had a chance to make it right. 

"Thanks, man."

Hylissang was overwhelmed with the warm familiarity of talking to an old friend and the support that friend showed. No matter the fact that he and Caps weren’t really friends anymore. 

The summer sunlight was reflecting off of his glasses and he could just lift his head up only for a second, but that was enough to take a glimpse at Rasmus’ big melancholic eyes that were following Martin's movements. The ADC was standing on the other side of the road, scrolling through his phone, not bothering to disturb his support and ex-mid laner’s conversation.

“Rekkles gives you a hard time, hm?” Hylissang cautiously broached the subject. 

“Haha, it’s fine.” Caps mumbled.

“I can tell it bothers you.”

The mid laner let out a long sigh. Maybe he was considering if now was the best time to discuss this topic. Or rather if Martin’s support was the best person to discuss it with.

“He’s still mad at me, isn’t he?” 

“Possibly. He never talks about you.”

Profound sadness drained through Rasmus for a second time this morning. He might have been expecting this answer, but it still hurt him nonetheless. 

“Were you mad at me?” He suddenly asked.

“I was for a while.” Zdravets answered honestly. “But I get it.”

“You do?”

“You did what you thought was best for you. I can only assume what would have happened if you had stayed with us, but overall it seems like you made the right decision.” The support smiled at him. “We could have separated on better terms, but I can’t still hold you responsible for something you did when you were barely nineteen.”

“How can Rekkles then?”

“For starters, I am not as prideful as Rekkles.” They both giggled. “I think it’s safe to say that you and I were friends. But you and Martin had a deeper connection. He was certain you would have talked to him. You broke his pride and he could not get over it.”

“I couldn’t talk to him. He would have convinced me to stay and I needed to leave.” 

Hylissang got lost in thought for a moment. What he said made sense. Back when they were together, Caps was always seeking Rekkles’ approval. The mid laner had tons of respect and devotion towards the ADC. And respect is a foundation for trust, just in the same way trust is a foundation for love. So it was shocking when Caps did not confide in Rekkles and left that bluntly. Zdravets was sure that was provoked by his childish-like inexperience. That was still probably true, yet there seemed to be a little bit more under the surface. Rekkles was still haunting Caps’ thoughts. He seemed like a different person around Martin. Moreover, he seemed strangely hung up on the Swede. 

“Hey, I might be reading into things too much,” Zdravets began uncertainly. “but do you hold feelings for Martin?”

Caps was taken off guard by this weird question.

“What makes you say that?” He asked flustered.

“I look at my girlfriend the same way you look at him.” Zdravets simply shrugged. “And also I kinda know you, we used to be together 24/7 for quite a while.”

Caps couldn’t reply for a while. He simply had no idea what to say. Zdravets just hoped that the Dane knew he could admit it out loud. The Bulgarian would understand, but the mid laner was still wondering how to respond. 

“I know you are friends, but can this stay between us?” Caps barely pronounced.

“Of course.” The support put his hand on Rasmus’ shoulder. “But I don’t think he likes-”

“If I had a penny for every time I’ve heard those words.” The mid laner interrupted that sentence with a scoff. Then he stood up and walked away to his team’s van.

Zdravets‘ eyes tracked him for a while. He wasn't thinking about anything particular, besides the fact that Caps had a point. The Bulgarian had to take a leap of faith. He picked up the phone to call his girlfriend. He was nervously listening to the free signal, waiting for her to answer. When she finally did answer, the familiar voice seemed so distant, like the voice of a stranger. Zdravets fixated his eyes on a small grey pebble as he was searching for the correct words.

“Listen, you’re the most important person in my life. Never forget that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this one month ago, but seeing G2 press conference - Worlds Semifinals reminded me of this chapter:D  
> https://i.redd.it/pe9ojb5tw1v51.png


	7. Countdown to nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence. Please, proceed with caution.

The familiar pain was throbbing violently inside Martin’s skull, and he wondered why it just didn’t crack open. He really needed a good rest. Walking outside of the building, he felt his skin soak up the warm golden rays. The sound of birds chirping was so distinct and calming. He let his head fall back, because he wanted to enjoy the view of the flock crossing the sky. But bright morning light from the sunrise pierced his sensitive eyes like needles. He squinted and once he got used to it, he scanned the horizon. Hylissang was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, concentrated on something on his phone, so the ADC decided not to bother him. What irritated him more than the sunlight though, was the sight of Selfmade talking to Wunder and Perkz about something across the street. Martin frowned and approached them, but still kept a distance of two steps. He didn’t want to get involved in their conversation, he just needed to be close. Just to be sure everything was under control. The ADC leaned on the wall and started scrolling through his phone, but he couldn’t center around anything that his OnePlus and the internet had to offer now. Martin shot a glimpse at Caps joining Hylissang on the sidewalk, but overall he had ears only for the chatting group beside him. They were discussing the new _LoL_ patch notes for quite a while.

In this moment, Martin wasn’t sure what made him more tense – the fact that Oskar was effortlessly leading a conversation with Perkz and Wunder, or the fact that he could feel Rasmus’ gaze on him. The Swede was trying really hard not to stare back. But as much as he was fighting that urge, he couldn’t help but lift his eyes. For a second, their eyes met, but Rasmus swiftly turned his head away. Martin sighed and looked down at his phone once again. This was more difficult then he thought it would be. How was Rasmus making him so confused? It was hard to admit it, but he missed the Dane. _Maybe I should talk to him_ , Martin thought, but his destructive pride shut him down immediately. _This is ridiculous, he left after all. We have no future of any kind together._

“You are actually smurfing at _Among us_!” Martin heard Selfmade complimenting Wunder and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You’re not so bad yourself. Both at _Among us_ and _League_.” Perkz laughed.

Martin was no longer interested in pretending there was something important on his phone, so he put it away. He instinctively checked his pockets for cigarettes, but remembered he no longer smoked. He looked around for a store, but this activity was aborted due to Wunder saying.

“True. You know, Jankos is retiring soon…” The top laner smiled and patted Oskar’s shoulder.

It was obviously a joke, but Martin saw red.

“And you’re planning on poaching another player from our team?” Martin scoffed and shortened the distance between him and the top laner.

“Are you still gonna whine about that like a little bitch?” Wunder snorted.

“Whoa, calm down, boys.” Oskar laughed nervously and put gently his hand on Martin’s chest to stop him from getting too close to Wunder. “What makes you think I’ll leave Fnatic for G2?”

“’Cause he did.” Martin nodded towards Rasmus’ direction, who was now standing baffled behind Wunder.

“Come on, Rekkles. These rumors get into your head too much.” Perkz tried to interrupt, but the Swede ignored him completely.

“And since you obviously can’t find good players on your own,” Martin continued, putting his finger on Wunder’s chest, which only seemed to irritate the top laner even more. “you have to take vile measures.”

“Did you just call me vile?” The top laner reached his limit and pushed Martin.

“What the hell is going on here?” Mithy came from somewhere. “I didn’t become a coach to deal with this kind of shit! Martin, get in the car.”

Martin inhaled sharply to calm his nerves. His eyes narrowed in determination to leave this charade behind. Mithy was right, he couldn’t be the reason why his team gets into trouble. He turned away to make his way to the car, but Wunder’s voice made him freeze in place.

“No wonder Rasmus couldn’t stay in Fnatic with you.”

Martin’s body jolted with a new vigor, the untapped rage was boiling up inside. He didn’t even notice his fists were clenched, until the surprising pain blazed up his arm as his fist connected to Wunder’s jaw.

The punch came as a shock to the top laner. His face twisted in a raging grimace as he threw his body weight at Martin, easily taking him to the ground. The air was knocked out of the ADC’s lungs when Wunder dropped on his chest and pinned him to the pavement. Martin squeezed his eyes when his head hit the concrete. He couldn’t see the first punch crashing into his face with such force that blood pooled in his mouth. Wunder’s huge palm grabbed the Swede by the throat, reducing his air intake. Martin swung his hand to hit him back, but from this position he couldn’t reach him. He couldn’t actually do anything at all. Then the second punch landed on the ADC's face, cracking his brow open. He quivered in pain and felt the blood from the wound flowing in his left eye. This only made it harder to witness the top laner’s fist slamming into his cheekbone one more time. Martin’s brain started signaling him that this was one too many to bear.

Wunder grabbed the Swede by the collar and pulled him up so he could meet his eyes. The gravity was desperately calling the ADC back to the ground. Martin felt that his muscles weren’t working anymore and he would no longer be capable of keeping his body upright if it wasn’t for the top laner’s strong grip. Now that he was being help up, he felt even more dizzy. The blood started running down his nose and throat and he was about to choke on it.

“Did you learn your lesson, pretty boy?” Wunder yelled. Jankos and Perkz were clutching onto the top laner’s shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to get his strong body off of Martin’s chest.

“Are you fucking insane? You are going to kill him!” Jankos screamed.

Martin harnessed all his remaining strength to flash a defiant smile at Wunder.

“Is that all you got?” The ADC asked sarcastically and spat the blood that was coating his tongue directly in the top laner’s face.

Wunder’s eyes widened in ferocity. He delivered the last hit on the Swede’s face and shoved him almost unconscious back to the ground.

Finally, someone pulled the top laner away from Martin’s almost lifeless body. He stayed powerless on the ground, unable to find even a modicum of energy to lift his head up. He saw Selfmade hovering over him in panic, shouting something to someone, but the buzzing in his ears was so loud, it was impossible to distinguish the words. The world was spinning around him so fast and now the birds were only dark silhouettes against the sky. The sky was transparent; its clearness suddenly reminded him of Rasmus’ blue eyes. A moment later, Martin saw him – he was kneeling over him, but the ADC had trouble focusing on the Dane’s frightened face. Rasmus looked like a mirage to Martin, like a strange illusion that his mind created to mess him up even more. But when the mid laner grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers, the sharp pain in his bruised knuckles reassured Martin that Rasmus was indeed there. Regardless of the agony, for a second the warmth of the mid laner’s hand calmed him and his pulse slowed down. The Swede’s insides shrank when he realized he wanted nothing more but to pull the Dane in a tight embrace and let him fall on his chest. A thought, scarier than the situation he just got himself involved in, crossed his mind for a second. _Do I actually love him?_

But Rasmus was frantically spurting some nonsense, so Martin strained to hear him out.

“Martin, can you hear me?” Rasmus’ words seemed like they were coming from another dimension.

“I…” The Dane began, looking like he had so much to say, yet he couldn’t find the words.

“Caps, we got this!” Selfmade exclaimed in attempt to detach the mid laner from Rekkles, but he clung to Martin even harder, not paying attention to the jungler.

“Everything will be okay. You will be okay.” Rasmus whispered, tears threatening to escape his eyes. “What he said… it’s not true, y-you know that, right?”

For all Rekkles knew, it was true. This was exactly why the Swede was at his wits’ end. Now, that he was laying helpless on the ground, he felt so freaking miserable. The overwhelming sadness drained through every cell of his body. In the back of his head, he knew that no one was to blame for this affliction – not G2, not Wunder, not Rasmus. Martin did this to himself, yet the inevitable fear that, if it wasn’t for Rasmus he wouldn’t be here now, was crushing.

The ADC was short of breath and every movement, effort or thought was a torture. But he brought himself to fixate his gaze on the mid laner’s bloodless face – on the face of the source of his madness, the void of his confusion, the deceiving hollowness of his collapsing soul. And he could say only one thing to Rasmus.

“Fuck you.” Martin’s voice came out low and hoarse.

“Fucking hell, Caps! Back off!” Selfmade shouted.

The Swede managed to sense that his own final words made Rasmus’ grip loosen up, letting Oskar finally pull the mid laner away from him. A profound sorrow crossed Rasmus' face, as if the world was falling apart right before his eyes. Then his features started losing their outlines.

The whole Fnatic squad, all shook-up, gathered around the ADC, rushing to handle the disaster. But Martin wasn’t even sure who was standing above him anymore. At that moment, he recalled a distant memory of Caps’ huge smile when he saw his room in the gaming house for the first time. The mid laner’s eyes were glistening with pure joy. Somehow, staring into those eyes made Rekkles feel like the world itself ceased to exist. How something as simple as that made him so happy back then? 

_Why do I remember this now?_ Martin wondered as the blood was building up in his throat once again.

Something strange was happening to his whole being. His head was pounding and he felt both nauseous like he was about to throw up, and too weak to actually do so. He started losing senses and his body went numb. The sound blurred into a blank noise and his vision got distorted and grainy like the image of a broken TV channel. He was drifting away from consciousness. The sky wasn’t blue anymore, it became a mass of black and white spots. He could no longer keep his eyes open. Then there was nothing.

Nothing at all.


	8. Heights and lows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Guess what time it is. That's right, it's drama time. XD 
> 
> I was very happy to read about your thoughts on the last controversial chapter, so thanks for letting me know!

“Nemesis doesn’t pick up.” Miky announced as he entered the living room in the gaming house. 

Perkz was pacing nervously. He was unsuccessful in trying to reach Mithy. They didn’t know which hospital Martin was in. They knew nothing. No idea how Rekkles was doing. Did he have major injuries or was he even alive.

“Of course, none of them will answer!” Carlos barked. He was standing in the middle of the room, staring in utter disbelief at Wunder. “How the fuck did that happen?!” 

“Dude, he hit me first!” Wunder exclaimed. 

“Are you serious right now?” Carlos facepalmed and added imitating Wunder’s voice. “ _Dude, he hit me first._ What the fuck is this? Sixth grade?”

“Come on! You were not there, you didn’t see how Rekkles went nuts.” Jankos shouted. “He’s still triggered about the whole Caps-poaching drama.”

Rasmus felt like he was in a dream - he couldn’t react almost at all. He was currently unable to judge the situation soberly. Nevertheless, the inevitable thought crossed his mind: _Maybe if I had left in a different way, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now._

“No shit!“ Carlos ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you have to beat the fuck out of him, man?” 

Wunder did beat the fuck out of Rekkles. Rasmus had never seen something like that even in his worst nightmares. He had gone through the most horrific experience in his life. Now his mind won’t be able to erase the image of Martin’s face covered in blood. When the Swede closed his eyes, Rasmus thought he had lost him forever. And he still might.

“He spat in Wunder’s face, Carlos. That's basically begging to get punched. There’s no villain here.” Perkz said and threw his phone on the couch. The ADC gave up dialing Mithy.

“Right now I don’t give a damn about how dysfunctional Rekkles is, nor who the villain is!” Carlos scoffed and turned his head to Wunder. “All I care about is that you can lose your career!” 

“I-“ The top laner began, but Carlos cut him off.

“I don’t wanna listen! You pray to God, Rekkles opens his eyes, ‘cause otherwise you’re in serious trouble!”

After he heard Carlos say out loud Rasmus’ fears that Rekkles might not wake up, all of a sudden everything became very real. He was about to implode any second now. The mid laner was incapable of just sitting in the living room and waiting, so he stood up and rushed towards the door.

“Caps, where the hell do you think you’re going?” Carlos yelled after him, but the Dane just couldn’t turn around and answer. He had to get out of here.

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me!” Rasmus heard Carlos shouting from the living room. “I really am dealing with five-year-olds, I swear!”

Rasmus rushed down the stairs, pushed the front door and started running down the street. Berlin was as busy and noisy as always, the smog in the city was thick, the sky was dark and starless. The Dane kept running and running, because it was helping him feel saner. The tears came fast and painful. They could not extinguish what happened, but maybe they could carry him forward until a time comes when that searing pain is distant enough to forget it. He stopped in the middle of nowhere, his skin was flushed and his heart was racing. Now the silent crying turned into ugly sobs. 

He brought out his phone and dialed Hylissang for the twentieth time today. But once again, he didn’t pick up.

“Fuck!” Rasmus cried out loud. He didn’t care that he was in the middle of the road, he wanted to scream and break his phone in the wall before him. 

Waves of helplessness were dragging him into a sea of abysmal darkness. Rasmus was lying in the pit that his world had become and although he knew there was light at the top, it felt like a billion miles away.

“Fuck!” He cursed again and buried his face in his hands to violently wipe away those tears. Then he looked around. He wasn’t exactly in the middle of nowhere. His legs brought him at a very specific place.

“Hey, Caps!” He turned his head in the direction of the voice. “Now that we are here, do you want to see something?”

“And ditch the other guys?” Rasmus asked surprised.

“We won’t ditch them. They are busy with filming the content. Besides it won’t take long.” Martin said and grabbed the mid laner’s wrist. “Just come.”

The Swede dragged Rasmus in a random building. Berlin wasn’t particularly famous for its tall buildings, but this one seemed to be among the higher ones in the city.

“What are we doing here?” The Dane asked, following Martin's lead.

“I’ve been hunting for apartments for a while and I think I want to buy one here.”

“But why? I think this construction won’t be finished any time soon.” 

Rasmus really did wonder why. The building was not exactly under construction anymore. From the street, it looked finished, but once you got inside, the air was different. It was obvious that no one was working on pushing the construction project to the end.

“True. The owner is short on money. But I could see myself living here because of the view.” Martin simply stated.

They stopped in front of the elevator. _Well, at least there’s an elevator_ , Rasmus thought with gratitude. They strolled inside and Martin pressed the button. The doors slid shut and the elevator started rising to the sixteenth floor without stopping.

“Do they even offer apartments for sale here?” Rasmus asked. 

“Yep.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t rush to buy one in this place.” The mid laner offered his friendly advice. 

“I am not rushing, I’m just considering it.”

The doors of the elevator opened and Martin led Rasmus up the stairs to the roof. Up here, it was like looking down at the world. Rekkles wasn’t lying. The view was worthy. But this place wasn’t exactly safe. There was a part where the railing was completely missing.

The sun was slowly going down. Martin’s eyes were steady on the horizon, face aglow with the last sunrays before twilight took over the city. His lips bore the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he was enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. Rasmus stayed quiet, allowing him to remain lost in the moment a while longer. It was nice to sit out there, the air was thinner.

Suddenly, Martin moved closer to the edge of the roof, where there was no railing. He sat on the concrete and swung his legs freely in the air. Rasmus’ heart jump. 

“Hey! Don’t do that!”

“It’s fine.” Martin looked behind at the mid laner’s tensed posture. He was still standing a few steps behind the ADC. “Not my first time doing that. I come here every once in a while.”

“I would feel a lot better if you are not sitting there. Please.” The Dane pleaded and let out a breath, once Martin moved away from the edge.

“Okay, I am sorry.” The Swede apologized and headed towards the railing. “Come, let’s enjoy the view.”

But no view, no matter how beautiful, could take his mind off of what had just happened. _What’s wrong with him? Does he not care if he falls?_ Rasmus thought frightened. He fixed his eyes on Martin’s features. Here, Rekkles seemed untouchable, as if he was immortal.

“Febiven wanted to buy an apartment right there.” The ADC said and pointed towards some building in close proximity. 

“Febiven?” This was one of the few times Rasmus heard Martin mentioning Fnatic’s ex-mid laner. “Do you still hang out with him?”

“No.”

“Why not? What happened?”

“Nothing happened. We are still on good terms, but we simply had a falling out.” Martin shrugged. “It’s hard to stay friends with your rivals, Rasmus. The stakes are too high.” 

Rasmus was still not entirely familiar with the downsides of his job. Fnatic was his first big opportunity to get close to the world of esports and experience by himself exactly how high the stakes were. The Dane had never really thought about that, but what Martin said wasn’t hard to understand at all. 

“It’s quite romantic, isn’t it?” The ADC asked all of a sudden, but he was not looking for the mid laner’s reassurance.

“Do you bring girls here?” Rasmus chuckled, but somehow his own question hurt him. He pushed the feeling to the back of his head.

“No, this is not what I meant.” Martin simply clarified. “There’s something romantic in being all by yourself, watching the whole world move forward from aside without you.”

“What are you talking about?” Rasmus asked confused and an odd realization came to his mind. _Did he just romanticize his own loneliness and sadness?_

“All I am saying is that I come here when I want to be alone.”

“Why did you bring me here then?” The Dane arched an eyebrow.

“Because you’re my closest friend. Sometimes I want to share moments like this with you.” Martin smiled softly at him. 

There was kindness in his smile. Rekkles was righteous – the kind of person who lived how he believed people should live. He wasn’t perfect by any means and he didn’t have to be. Neither did Rasmus. All that mattered was that he supported Rasmus in all his foolishness. No one believed in the mid laner the way Martin did. He trusted him unconditionally and all Rasmus had to do was to preserve that trust. 

“Let’s get going.” The ADC patted his shoulder. “The guys should be done filming.”

The Swede walked towards the exit, but Rasmus couldn’t quite follow him. He was strangely drawn to the edge with no railing. His thoughts were still centered on Martin’s reckless behavior. The mid laner had never acknowledged that the ADC was bearing a self-destructive nature. 

_Maybe if I move close and take a look over the edge there, I could understand him better,_ Rasmus wondered and stepped towards the edge. His hand was clutching onto the railing for support until it ended abruptly. His palms were getting sweaty with every step. Rasmus was not particularly afraid of heights, but this was something else. One wrong movement and it could be over. He was extremely cautious, but once he got so close to the edge, he got dizzy and disoriented. His hand slipped and for a second he thought he would stumble over the edge. Then he felt Martin’s grip pulling him backwards.

“What the hell are you doing?” The Swede asked sharply.

This little adventure Rasmus took made his blood run cold.

“I-I am sorry…” He began, but then he added. “Hey! How come you can do it and I can’t?”

“That’s different!” Martin argued. His hand was still clutching tightly onto Rasmus’.

“How exactly is it different?” The Dane emphasized ironically. 

“I don’t value my life the same way I value yours.” Martin responded, he was glaring at him in fright. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rasmus demanded, but at heart, he knew what it meant.

“Nothing. Forget about it.” Martin said and paused. “Just, please, don’t do that ever again.”

The Swede shook his head for a second as if he was debating whether he should do what he was about to do next. Rasmus was struck dumb when Martin went ahead and hugged him firmly. That physical closeness took him by surprise, but the boy leaned into his touch, not wanting the moment to end.

“I just don’t want to lose you.” Martin mumbled in Rasmus’ neck.

Once the Dane heard those words, he sunk into the warmth of Martin’s embrace and somehow this April evening wasn’t so chilly anymore. 

_I don’t want to lose you either_ , Rasmus thought, staring into the city lights from above. He was standing on the same rooftop now. The gentle summer wind almost dried his eyes out. The building was absolutely the same, like it was frozen in time. 

He must have been there for an hour or so, when the sound of his phone made him jump. Hylissang finally had returned his calls, but now Rasmus felt paralyzed. What if he heard something he couldn’t bear? What if actually Martin had-

“How is he?” He brought himself to pick up the phone.

“He’s still unconscious.” Zdravets had never sounded so exhausted. “He will most likely wake up.”

“Where are-” Rasmus began, but the support interrupted him.

“I can’t talk much. Let me call you tomorrow.”

“No! Please, wait!”

“Listen, Caps. Everything will be okay, I promise you. But right now, I’ve got to go. Just try to get some rest.”

And with that the other end of the line cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, Caps can't catch a break. I hope this memory gave you some insights on Rekkles' personality. 
> 
> On a more positive side: how do you like the pun in the title of the chapter? XD Did that show my 200 years of experience in writing? KEKW


	9. Waking up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. At some point, I started choking and stopped updating the story. However, I finished it back in September so might as well post it for the people who wanted to see how it ends.

Martin woke up to a ceiling full of black spots. He tilted his head to the right and saw a dark figure reading a book on the armchair next to his bed. The sudden pain that hit him felt like someone had taken a knife to his skull. And on top of that, that someone had removed the left side of his face with that same knife. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the pain to go away. The rest of the world started falling away again as he whispered.

“Var är jag?”

The dark figure threw the book, rushed close to him and sat on his bed. He distinguished Mithy’s features.

“Where am I?” The ADC asked this time in English. 

“In the gaming house. In your room.” The coach answered with an uneasy tone. 

Rekkles still couldn’t exactly focus on his surroundings. 

“Martin, can you recognize me?”

“Of course, I can.” The Swede mumbled slowly, trying to sit up, but the moment he pushed himself up, he felt the need to get back down on the bed. The room was spinning around like a carousel. 

“Oh, thank God.” Mithy sighed with relief, putting his hand on his own chest. “I must call your doctor.”

“Alfonso, please wait. Tell me what happened. Why do I feel like I am dying?” 

“You have a concussion. You got into a fistfight with Wunder at the Berlin Brawl.” 

“What? Are you joking?” But the crushing pain hinted that it wasn’t a joke at all.

“Ugh, I wish.” Mithy handed him a glass of water and pushed some pills directly into his mouth. “Drink.”

Martin sipped from the water and held it behind his lips longer than expected. His muscles tensed as he tried to swallow the pills. 

“Did I win though?” He smiled with an effort. 

“Shut up.” The coach laughed and rolled his eyes. 

“How long have I been sleeping for?” 

“Two days." He took the glass from the ADC’s hands and placed it on the nightstand. "You actually woke up in the hospital, but weren’t really conscious.”

“What day is it today?”

“August 17th.”

“Shit…” Martin breathed out. “we are playing Rogue in less than a week…”

“You should not worry about that. The team is scrimming with xMatty right now.” 

Well, of course they were scrimming with xMatty. But this didn’t mean Rekkles won’t give everything to make things right. _A little bit late for that, don’t you think, dumbass?_ , he scolded himself. 

“I can play, you should let me play. Please.” He wasn’t sure he was telling the truth though. 

“No, you’re not in a condition to play.” Mithy lifted the glass up and started swirling it in his hands, because he needed to keep them occupied. 

“Come on! This is our spot for World’s!” Martin suddenly felt restless as if no pain could stop him from getting out of this damn bed to join his team. He started wondering how he could possibly get himself into this mess and jeopardize Fnatic’s performance like the biggest fool, walking on this planet. He would never forgive himself if he blew up the chance to fulfill his biggest wish to win it all.

“Martin, you should see yourself in the mirror. You look like shit and I bet you feel like shit.”

“Please, Alfonso, there has to be a way!” The ADC pleaded, feeling more and more anxious with every second. “You know this is my freaking dream!”

“Okay, calm down. I will consult it with your doctor. Just, don’t stress out.” Mithy said as if he was genuinely considering doing it and not simply trying to soothe him.

There was a pause. Martin nodded, hoping that those moments of silence would give him some time to find the correct words for what he intended to say.

“I am sorry for what I did. I never meant to hurt you or the guys.” The Swede whispered, looking down at his hands.

“I know.” Mithy gave him a sympathetic smile. He wasn’t mad, if anything he was more worried than angry. 

“What the hell was that, Martin? Did you want to get yourself killed?”

Martin blinked with a puzzled expression on his face. At once, he got randomly confused and his head felt empty. 

“I don’t remember anything.” 

“But what’s going on with you? What bothers you?” Mithy asked quietly and when he saw the hesitation in the Swede’s eyes, he added. “You know, if you tell me, I might actually help you.”

He thought for a second to share his problems with the coach, but he didn’t quite know what to say or what kind of issues exactly he had. All he could realize was that he recalled much simpler times when he was more carefree. The only shift from the ordinary, he could notice, was Rasmus. Telling Mithy didn’t feel like an option anymore. Martin just couldn’t bring another burden on the team once again. He knew the coach already had a long road ahead of him to deal with the issue at hand. When Martin didn’t answer, Mithy added.

“Okay, then. I’ll call your doctor and bring you something to eat.” He probably wanted to say something else, but gave up and just patted his shoulder. 

Mithy stood up and headed to leave the room, but on the doorstep, he turned back to Martin and declared decisively. 

“I want you to see a therapist again. Three times per week, starting next Monday.”

“Fine.” Martin agreed, sinking back into the bed. “Whatever you say.” 

“This is what I say.”  
\---

Three days later, Rekkles was feeling way better. In the past days, he was sleeping a lot and in the few hours he was in fact awake, it felt more like sleepwalking or being trapped in a weightless dream. But today, he did feel fine. 

Looking in the mirror, he still had trouble recognizing himself. The bruises were grotesque against his ghostly skin. At least the swelling had subsided and his left eye was fully opened. The headache was no longer persistent. Slowly but surely, he was regaining his ability to concentrate on tasks and in general, he could see himself getting back to his previous routine sooner rather than later. But before that, he had to do one more thing. 

He still wasn’t certain what exactly happened at the Berlin Brawl, but there was a great deal of emotions behind his uncertainty. Instead of waiting for this disaster to unfold somehow, he did something new – something that was hopefully a better choice. So, he sat down on the armchair in his room, picked up the phone and listened patiently to the beeps. 

“Martin?!” Sam Mathews exclaimed, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”

“Yeah, hi.” Martin cleared his throat, he was about to start talking, but Sam went first. 

“How are you? Do you need something?” He actually sounded crazy worried about Martin’s wellbeing.

“No, don’t worry about me. I will recover fully” The ADC reassured. “Listen, I want you to know that I’ll take full responsibility for what I did.” 

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, not even trying to hide his confusion. “Weren’t you the one sent to the hospital?”

“I was.”

“Good. We are ready to back you up. I’ll send a lawyer and-“

“No. I don’t want to press charges against him.”

“Well, you should. What he did is inexcusable.” Sam insisted.

He had a point, but what Martin did was also inexcusable. It wasn’t that hard for him to understand Wunder. He and the top laner weren’t so different after all. They were the classic case of just another two messed up guys, venting their anger on each other.

“I provoked him, I was the one who started this fight.”

He didn’t know what kind of personal issues Wunder had, nor he cared, but he didn’t have to make their lives even harder by pressing charges. And what for? Money? Or out of spite? He didn't want to be that person.

“That was what Alfonso told me. Can I hear what happened from you though?” 

“Some things came back to me, but overall, it’s all blank. What I remember is that he said something about Caps that triggered me.” Martin admitted with difficulty. 

“Right, Caps again.” Sam couldn’t even pretend he was surprised. The Swede figured that he and Mithy probably already discussed this topic. “He left almost two years ago…”

“Yes and I want to put it behind me and move on, so I don’t have to think about this disaster anymore.” Martin pleaded. 

“Fine. I’ll talk to Carlos and let them know about your decision.” Sam sighed. “And I’ll make sure Carlos takes care about Wunder, so this won’t happen ever again. But, please, talk the Caps-thing out with your therapist.”

 _Easier said than done_ , Martin thought, but he couldn’t say anything. It was the most logical advice, yet Sam didn’t know the whole story. What Martin and Rasmus were sharing wasn’t exactly an ugly memory of a broken friendship. Or at least not only an ugly memory of a broken friendship. 

In that frozen second of awkward silence, the Swede’s eyes landed on a comic book on his nightstand. A comic book left by one of his teammates, who were babysitting him during those first crucial days, when he was barely conscious. Maybe Rekkles was silent for far too long, so Sam led the conversation to an end.

“Okay, take care, man. And please, let me know if you ever need anything.” 

“Sure. Thank you.” Martin said and pushed himself out of the chair. 

Now that he was hovering over his nightstand, he realized that he didn’t know who that comic book belonged to. Martin looked through the pages. It was written in English. Maybe if it was written in one of the guys’ native languages, he would recognize whose it was, and his mind would trick him into believing that his conscience was clear. But at this moment, holding the comic book in his hands, he never felt more disconnected to his teammates. Guilt. Guilt was the correct word to describe his emotion regarding the fact that he didn’t acknowledge how those were the guys who were helping him to get back on track. And Martin couldn't even point out which one of them enjoyed reading comic books. _Am I so self-absorbed?_ He thought. _I don't deserve the boys to look after my selfish ass._

Like it was the most important mission for today, he left his room and crossed the street to the office. He pushed the door open and found Selfmade in his usual spot behind his PC, waiting for the queue to pop. Martin heard Nemesis and Hylisssang’s voices coming from the kitchen. Oskar was obviously streaming, because he muted his mic before greeting the ADC.

“Yo, what’s up, Martin?”

“Whose is this?” The Swede asked and lifted the comic book on Oskar’s eye level.

“Bwipo’s.” The jungler answered and took his headset off. “Where did you find it?”

“In my room.” Martin said and carefully put the comic book on Bwipo’s desk. 

Rekkles pushed himself to remember if Gabriël had always liked reading comic books or this was something new. 

“Where is he?” The ADC asked.

“Who?” Oskar arched a brow. “Bwipo? He’s home, man. He left the office with you one hour ago, remember?”

“Ugh, yeah. Of course.” Martin muttered under his breath.

Frankly, he didn’t remember. Apparently, Oskar guessed this for himself and after a moment of hesitation he tried to reassure him sympathetically.

“Hey, it’s normal under those circumstances, relax.”

But Martin wasn’t sure he could blame it all on the concussion. One hour ago, he was so occupied with his own shit that he blocked everything else out. 

“We discussed moving to a different office for the official games, do you remember that?” Oskar asked slowly, staring at Martin’s confused expression. 

“I do.” 

Yes, Martin paid attention to everything that would bring him to the most important goal of his life – winning. But apparently not to the people he called “friends”. Not that he was unable to see the others needs and pains as valid, but he was so self-driven to accomplish what he believed would make him valuable in other people’s eyes to the point he often became oblivious to those who surrounded him.

Suddenly the guilt that was sitting on his chest made room for another emotion – shame. If his face wasn’t heavily bruised, the Pole might have seen it turning red.

There he stayed, trying to focus on his breathing, eyes steady on Oskar’s figure, but he was looking right through him. The banter in the kitchen turned into laughter and as if now he remembered that Hylissang was usually going home in the evening after a day in the office, just like Bwipo.

“Zdravets is still here.” Martin thought out loud. This wasn’t even a question, just a simple realization. 

“Yeah, he hangs out here a lot recently.” Oskar said and when he noticed that this wasn’t enough of an answer, he added. “He runs away from his problems at home.”

Another friend Martin knew nothing about nowadays. The Swede was perceived by the outsiders as the face of Fnatic - someone who gives a damn about the friendship with his teammates. But in reality, he started fearing that his words and actions pulled in opposite directions, like his mind’s narrator and navigator had a completely different views of this specific topic.

“Are you okay, mate? You don’t seem well.” Oskar’s voice made him remember that he was, in fact, in a conversation.

Martin felt a sudden impulse to hug the jungler. To tell him that he was grateful, that he appreciated the support of his teammates and that he was sorry he wasn’t a better friend. But he didn’t know how to do this.

“Oskar, do you want-“ 

_What? Do you want what?_ The questions flooded Martin’s mind. _To have a beer with me? To grab a bite together? To tell me what’s going on with you lately? Or was the virus truly the sole reason you didn’t go home in the past year?_

He couldn’t get those words out. The queue popped and the Pole turned away from Martin for a second to accept the game. 

“Do I want what?” Oskar asked and looked back at him.

Martin was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening in his life that he couldn’t simply bear any more of it. The gears of his self-preserving mechanisms were turning at full speed at that moment. He couldn’t deal with this right now. Or perhaps ever. That’s how he did it – pretending that there was nothing wrong. When he was too much in his head, or life gave him pain, he pushed it down. And if all of it started to come up again, he pushed the next problem on top of it. 

“Nothing.” The Swede said and shook his head like he was trying to shake the hurricane of emotions away. “Forget about it.”

He went to the living room, avoiding to look at the smashed face of Fnatic in the mirror, and fell on the enormous grey couch there. He could hear how Selfmade was malding on his stream next door.

Martin came here, hoping to divert his destructive thoughts. Yet he was laying on the very same place where he spent the night with Rasmus almost eight months ago. His mind brought him back once again to that cold January morning in Fnatic’s office. It was another deliberation that he was desperately pushing away, trying to convince himself that he didn’t break the Dane’s heart. Martin had a few meaningless one-night stands after that and this was his way to hopelessly distract himself from the realization that he was never romantically attracted to anyone else anymore. And he never really was before Rasmus.

Now that his brain completely blocked Oskar’s voice out, Martin could only hear the repetitive sound of the familiar clock on the wall. He grew to despise that sound which caused nihilistic images to roam in the depths of his mind like lost children in a forest. Especially now, those images recalled the familiar fear that his existence was nothing more than a series of cycles. Every monotonous ticking of the clock felt like nails were driven in his head.

He lifted his phone to his eye level, staring at Rasmus’ name on the screen. His pride had kept the connection between him and the mid laner broken for way too long, although his heart wanted to fix it. He was actually on the verge to do something unthinkable and text Rasmus in attempt to settle the mess in his head once and for all. 

What was he going to tell him? That he wanted to start over? That he wanted to be his friend again? That he wanted to be something more? Like something good could come out of it?

Old fears ran through his head when those bad memories cut loose from their chains and invaded his confidence. So when his thoughts tumbled into that abyss once again, he simply groaned, locked his phone and threw it on the other side of the couch. Defeated by his mind, he was in a mental free-fall, unable to figure himself out. He shut his eyes and started wondering if this is how hitting the rock bottom feels like.


	10. Downpour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone!

Оn August 29th, Rasmus woke up in the middle of the day in his room, which was as dark as if it was early in the morning. The unwelcomed darkness almost tempted him to return to sleep, but he had to prepare for the match against Fnatic tonight. Yawning, he crawled out of bed and went to peek through the window. Only small chunks of light were breaking through the grey dense clouds here and there. The air was heavy with the dampness of the coming summer storm. In days like these, when the sky was overwhelmed with emotion, loneliness threatened to unleash itself upon him. 

Yes, two weeks had passed since that disaster of a morning at the Berlin Brawl. Both of the organizations were still dealing with the conflict between Rekkles and Wunder, while trying to involve the rest of the players as little as possible. Rasmus had some information about the Swede's recovery during the last ten days. That wasn't enough though. He needed to witness with his own eyes that Martin was doing well, so when he saw him playing against Rogue, the weight of the world finally lifted from his shoulders.

With the fall of the night, G2 had gathered in the scrimming room, fully ready to take over their rivals. During the champ selection of the fifth game, Caps‘ headphones were off. He was focused on Grabbz’ voice echoing in the room, when the first thunder eventually cracked open the cloudy night sky. The crack, violent to the ear, startled the guys and drew their attention to the open window where they saw a sudden heavy rain falling down.

It was as if the storm had brought with itself an omen of the loss against Fnatic tonight. The boys didn’t take the loss lightly, but it was alright as long as they learned from it. After all, these two teams had always brought the best out of each other and this was what mattered. Besides, it was not like they had lost the finals. 

The guys tried to find a way to cheer themselves up, so they ordered Domino’s. They ate in silence, every single one of them deep in thoughts about what they could have done better in the last banger of a game. Rasmus was fidgeting in his gaming chair, chewing on his pizza, when he heard familiar shouting on the street. Luka, followed by Jankos, stood up to see what was going on.

“Hey guys, look at these clowns!” Perkz was now standing next to the window, looking down amused.

“What are they doing here? Did they come to annoy us?” Jankos was now leaning on Perkz’s back, wondering what was happening.

Rasmus threw his unfinished slice of pizza in the box and jumped out of the chair to make sure with his eyes that he was hearing those voices for real. 

“I doubt it. Their new office for the pro games is next to ours. I recommended it to Mithy since he asked nicely if I know a place. I am not even sure if these fools are aware that our office is here.” Luka answered and grinned. “Look how happy they are.”

The conversation between Perkz and Jankos continued next to Rasmus, but he tuned it out completely. It was almost like he was in a different room all alone, while looking down at Bwipo, crawling on the street under the rain that was falling like it meant to wash him away. From this angle, the Dane couldn’t take a good look on Martin’s face, but he was relieved to see him uplifted.

“How are those streets so freaking slippery?” Rasmus heard Bwipo's shouting and assumed the top laner just fell on his face.

“You broke the fucking umbrella, mate!” Selfmade was soaking wet as well. Obviously, Bwipo was sharing the umbrella with him. Hylissang was laughing his ass off at that ridiculous view, which only seemed to irritate the jungler more. Oskar took his revenge and pulled the umbrella from Zdravets' hand, letting the Bulgarian get drenched.

“Laugh now!” The Pole exclaimed and the support actually burst out laughing.

"What are you doing, Oskar! You're slowing us down even more!" Martin shouted in amusement. "Now we have to go back to the office."

"Yeah, I don't have a whole night to waste on you." Nemesis declared, casually resting his arm on Rekkles' shoulder under their own umbrella. "I'll give you exactly ten minutes to pull yourselves back together." 

"Ten minutes my ass!" Oskar snorted and crossed his arms. "We have only two bathrooms upstairs, remember?" 

"Then shower together, man. I don't care." The Slovenian said, entertained.

Rasmus couldn’t help but genuinely smile himself. He was pretty bummed out about the loss, but seeing his ex-team being silly and annoyingly happy, it felt natural to be happy with them. Exactly one year ago, the Dane played the toughest final in his life – again against Fnatic. It was tough not only game-wise, all the five games were back and forward, but also mentally-wise. Back then, when G2 won the LEC final, the rush of excitement overpowered him and twenty seconds later, he glanced towards the Fnatic side of the studio and saw their miserable faces. He had been through a lot with them, both positives and negatives. Seeing them lose was weird, because… it felt what Rasmus only could describe as “wrong”. Normally, he would be sad with them, but he was supposed to celebrate. And now, he felt the same – only now he was on the losing side.

Luka’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“So it’s Rekkles, isn’t it?”

“What?” 

Rasmus flinched as he sensed the heat rising to his cheeks. The other boys from his team were out of the room already and he was alone with Luka. Maybe the Croatian was waiting exactly for that. 

“At first, I was scared you were considering rejoining Fnatic, but soon it became pretty obvious it was more complicated.”

“I am not sure what you’re talking about.” Rasmus tried to shake it off and smiled. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything. You just need to know that I am here for you.” Luka simply stated and headed towards the door.

Rasmus had a strong will to hide this specific part of his life for a very long time. But the power of the will is a finite resource, it burned all the energy in his brain. Once that energy ran out, he gave in.

“Is it that obvious?” There was no point in denying it anymore or in trying to lie to his teammate and friend.

Luka turned around and made his way to one of the gaming chairs, ready to talk to the mid laner.

“You should see yourself from aside. You're not exactly subtle.”

The Dane sat on the chair next to Luka, ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“People are not blind, Rasmus. You are not even remotely close to being yourself around him.” Luka stood up and took a Redbull out of the fridge. “Well, maybe the only one, blind enough to miss something that can be spotted from the Moon, is actually Rekkles himself.”

“He already knows.” Caps’ voice was barely audible now. 

“Come again?” Perkz asked with a sneer and dropped back on his chair.

“We slept together.”

“YOU DID WHAT?” Luka grabbed the armrests with both his hands as if the news that Rasmus just broke to him were about to knock him off.

“Uhm… that’s… new.” He continued, lowering his voice, unable to hide how surprised he was, no matter how much he tried. “I was certain he was straight.”

“He is. We were wasted when we did it." Rasmus sighed. "And even if he falls for a guy, it would be Nemesis.” 

“WHAT? Why Nemesis? Slow down, this is too much information for me to take in. You were drunk? How? W-when… “ Luka stuttered. "Just start from the beginning, okay?"

Emotionally hurt and unstable, Rasmus let out everything to his teammate. He didn’t spare the details. Luka was sitting there, completely lost in the story. He was listening to every word Rasmus said, he was listening about the pain, the struggle and the search for love. And when Rasmus finished, the tension that was poisoning the Dane for a whole eternity, melted into nothing for a moment. Just for a moment. 

"Wow..." Luka wasn't sure what to say after the end of the story, so he took his time to consider what was the appropriate response in a situation like this. 

“I-I am sorry you went through that. It sucks.” The ADC went on with an emphatic voice. “Are you planning on talking with him?” 

“And tell him what? _Oh, you should stop fucking around with random girls in bathroom stalls and be with me instead?_ ” Rasmus made a full turn on his chair, tilting his head towards the ceiling. “He still resents me.” 

Luka sighed. He was feeling sorry for Caps, and as a matter of fact, maybe for Rekkles as well. How did those guys end up here in the first place? 

“Maybe that’s for the best. I mean, did you see him at the Brawl? He’s trouble.” The Croatian stopped for a second to clear his throat and Rasmus winced as the terrifying memory flashed before his eyes. 

“Just do yourself a favor and stay away from him.” Luka continued. “This is not about you. This is about him being fucked up.”

“What do you think? That I don’t know that?” The mid laner stood up and started pacing.

“All I’m saying is that you should consider putting yourself first.”

“How do you put yourself before someone who you actually-”

But his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an incoming message. Rasmus casually brought out his phone from the pocket and scanned the screen. His eyes widened in disbelief, when he realized that the last person on this planet he expected to hear from, actually sent him a message. The blood drained from his face and he felt his ability to think clearly fading away. 

"What's going on?" Luka asked carefully and stood up to face the Dane. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

“It’s him.” Rasmus swallowed hard. A swell of emotions hit him and yet he didn’t know exactly what he was feeling. Anger? Sadness? Confusion? Excitement? Why was Martin texting him now all of a sudden? 

“Really? What does he say?” 

“He wants to see me. Now.” 

“Will you go?” Luka asked but shook his head as if he already knew the answer.

Rasmus tried to calm himself down and took a deep breath. He probably shouldn’t go. Of course, the mid laner was always suppressing the feeling that there was so much left unspoken between the two of them, there was so much he wanted to say, but wasn’t able to, and probably never would be. But, believe it or not, now the Swede provided him with the opportunity to actually face him. Hell, he was waiting for that opportunity for two whole weeks, he just couldn’t miss the chance. 

Or maybe Rasmus would go and they would get into a quarrel. Well, that was something he wanted to steer clear of. But he perfectly knew that if he ignored the text, they both would pointlessly try to avoid one another, pretending they were okay this way. And it would be back to the starting position, which was not an optimal decision. He could run away and hide as much as he wanted to, but it had become clear that because of their career, Caps was destined to see Rekkles everywhere, to play against him, to play with him, so he might as well try and make the most out of it. At least, this was how he tried to rationalize his decision.

“Yes. I have to.” The mid laner simply answered and headed towards the door. 

"No, you don't have to!" Luka rushed to stop him. "Listen, I hate to be the one telling you this, but it won't end well. What you think you can fix - you can't.

Deep inside, the Dane knew that Luka had spoken the truth. Why he couldn't just accept it? Was there even something that Luka could say to prevent him from seeing Martin?

“Rasmus, your situation seems to be beyond repair." The ADC said softly and grabbed the mid laner by the shoulders. "Besides, they are our biggest competition. You do realize you can’t have a close relationship with someone who you compete daily, right?”

Rasmus' throat clenched. 

“I do.” He answered and left the scriming room.

\---

Rasmus walked out of the front door and tried to estimate how to dash across the street without having to go through the wall of water. As hard as he tried his best to avoid getting soaked, his summer jacket was almost fully drenched in seconds. He cursed in his mind and texted Martin he was there. Sitting on the doorstep, he was shaking, not really sure if this was a consequence of the stormy weather or of the fact that he was finally going to confront Martin. He climbed the stairs. His heart was pounding when the Swede opened the door and let him in. 

“Thanks for coming.”

The first thing Rasmus did was to look at the ADC’s bruises. They were still there, slowly fading away. His face was healing well. 

“Yeah, sure.” Rasmus nervously ran his fingers through his wet hair. Drops fell down on his already drenched jacket.

“You arrived really fast.” Martin looked him up and down. “And haven’t you heard of umbrellas?”

Martin was dressed in a black t-shirt and black sweatpants. The mid laner was very familiar with this casual look that the Swede was often pulling off, but now he looked somewhat different. Everything – from the way he spoke to the way he handled himself was emitting confidence.

“I thought I could get away without the umbrella. Our office is right next door.” Rasmus pointed out of the window to the building in view.

“Oh.” Martin chuckled. “What a coincidence.”

“It was not a coincidence.” The mid laner shrugged. “Perkz recommended this place to Mithy. He knew the office you ended up renting was empty.”

“I see. That’s why it’s good to have a decent relationship with your old teammates, right?” 

“Right…” Rasmus agreed sheepishly, and looked down to the ground. 

“Come on, take that jacket off.” Martin said after an awkward pause. Rasmus did so and passed it to the Swede, watching him put it on a hanger. 

“Does it still hurt?” The Dane asked slowly and pushed his hands in his pockets.

“What? This?” The ADC pointed at his own face. “No.”

Caps raised an eyebrow, not really buying those words. He wasn’t sure if Rekkles was telling the truth, but decided not to push it. Martin grabbed a clean towel from a top drawer, unfolded it and passed it to him.

“It’s fine.” Caps rejected it, not taking his hands out of his pockets.

“Seriously, Rasmus? I don’t want you to catch a cold or something.” 

Martin came close to him and after a moment of hesitation, he rubbed the towel on the mid laner's hair gently. Suddenly, the time stood still and the air felt thick. They were staring at each other in an odd way – like they were involved in a silent argument. There was barely any distance between them and Rasmus felt the longing sensation grow stronger in his guts. He tried to fight that sensation, his brain was sending him signals that he should take a step back. But he was frozen in place. He started wandering if he was going to spend the rest of his career, wishing for something he could never have. Rekkles was standing so close to him, yet he was always somehow out of reach, impossible to be pinned down fully. 

Unexpectedly, Martin dropped the towel on the floor to free his hands and rested his palm on Rasmus’ face, dragging his thumb across the mid laner’s lips. The Dane tensed up to a point where he was about to explode. Martin’s eyes were heavy with passion when he leaned closer and brushed lightly Rasmus’ lips with his own. The mid laner closed his eyes and surrendered to him completely. The kiss was soft at first, but developed fast in a more lustful one. He almost felt his heart stop beating when Martin’s fingers stroked his flushed cheek and went down his neck. It was hard for him to deny the sublime excitement that had filled him. He wrapped his arms around the ADC’s waist, pulling him even closer as he wished to melt against his body. He was finally where he had waited long enough to be - in Martin’s arms. The moment was elevated and majestic, it was perfect. 

In fact, it was too perfect to be true. Why did all of a sudden Martin want to see him? Why did he kiss him? Did he magically realize he had feelings for Caps and now he was grabbing life by the throat? Or was the sole reason behind his actions the rush of defeating G2? Was he trying to claim Rasmus as a trophy? The questions bombarded his head one after another. Of course, Rekkles was not just hit by the divine realization that he was in love with Caps. Of course, he didn’t take the spontaneous decision to call him over and declare his love. Of course, he would never do that. He was just very high on the win. This was enough for the Dane to pull anxiously away.

“No. You… you can’t do this to me.” Rasmus mumbled with impossibly big eyes. “I am not a toy to play with.”

“Is this what you think of me?” Martin asked surprised, frowning at the mid laner.

“Yeah, this is exactly what I think. So stop fooling around with me, because there’s nothing worse than believing I have a chance with you when I really don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was partially based on:  
> \- Caps' vlog about the LEC finals (I don't take credit for that part, that one is all on him, I quoted him verbatim)  
> \- Jankos' quote about the impossibility of being friends with your rivals (well, I guess the whole fic is based on that quote XD)


	11. Delirium

“How did we manage to come to the _lamest_ bar in Berlin?” Selfmade mused after he ordered a glass of vodka. “The music is not loud enough. I can hear my own thoughts and that could never be good.”

Normally, Martin would relate, but not tonight. Tonight, was the best night of the year – the night when they finally took G2 down. But Oskar was right – the music was a downer.

“We came to the _closest_ bar to the new office.” Nemesis remarked annoyed, but smiled anyway. The mid laner was sitting next to Oskar on the round table. 

Yes, Fnatic made a collective decision that it was for the best to mimic an LEC day at the arena as best as they could. They couldn’t use the stage experience to their advantage anymore. Playing against rival teams just felt like another scrim. Thus, switching buildings for the important matches was a very welcomed idea. 

Mithy pulled some strings and he managed to rent a gaming office for the team, where they could comfortably perform their professional duties to the best of their abilities. Good results showed after their first best-of-five in the playoffs and the team gained its confidence back after the rough regular season.

“Maybe, if you didn’t get Hyli purposefully drenched, aaand we didn’t waste another additional thirty minutes after the last game, we could have searched for another place.” Tim added dramatically.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this bullshit.” Oskar groaned. “It was Bwipo’s fault.” 

“You toxic fuck.” Gabriël grinned and playfully punched the Pole’s arm. 

The waiter placed Selfmade’s vodka on the table and the jungler raised his glass in honor of tonight’s banger of a victory.

During the past week, Fnatic worked hard to prepare for the match against G2, Mithy gave everything to create a good strategy to get those wins and in the end, it paid off. The mood was light and the boys were excessively hyped up. Not even Tim could hide his excitement. 

That win freed Martin. He was no longer in his head. No fear that he wasn’t valuable, no fear that he wasn’t good enough to beat G2, no 0-7 holding him down anymore, no mental block, no fear that Rasmus was right to leave. No fear that Rasmus was right when he said that Rekkles would be the reason why the team would go down. No, not because he was a bad player. Rasmus implied back then that it would happen because Martin was fucked up. But who’s fucked up now?

Yes. It felt sweet. Beating Rasmus’ team never felt sweeter. Nothing could have possibly boosted his confidence more.

“Okay, okay, everyone shush!” Selfmade said and got more excited if that was even possible. 

“There are two girls, sitting on the bar over there.” Oskar continued, whispering, and nodded in a direction somewhere above Hylissang and Bwipo’s heads. “And the one from the left is staring at me.” 

Zdravets was curious enough to look over his shoulder at the girls. 

“Don’t stare like that, Hyli! Be cool.” The Pole hissed, covering his face with his hands.

Gabriël also couldn’t help but turn to take a look and Oskar scolded him immediately.

“I said be cool, man!” He gasped in annoyance, but started laughing. “You are a bunch of freaking virgins.”

The girls were so pretty, sitting there, carelessly leading a fun conversation, beaming positive vibes, glancing perkily at the boys’ table. They were the perfect addition to a perfect night of celebration. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, man.” Bwipo warned promptly, a big smile on his lips. “She’s probably looking at Rekkles anyway. He’s even more of a girl magnet with what’s left of his black eye.”

“Nah, the brunette is really checking you out, Oskar.” Martin confirmed with a half-smile.

“See? I am not delusional.” Oskar tapped his palm rapidly on the table. “Let’s go talk to them, Martin.”

“Dude, we literally got here five minutes ago!” Zdravets scolded playfully and sipped from his beer.

“She likes me, mate!” Selfmade whined like a kid. “This could be my future wife.”

“Yeah, right!” Gabriël snorted sarcastically. “She’ll get scared and run away the moment you start talking.”

“Why don’t you want me to get the wife buff, man?” The Pole began, ready to crack the lame joke in his head. “Have you thought of the possibility that she could help me carry your ass in the finals next week, hm?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Do you want us to lose the finals, Bwipo? Is this what you want?” Oskar was barely suppressing his laughter.

“If you care enough to make that load of crap, you should go try your luck.” Tim sniggered and elbowed the jungler. “Even you guys leaving the table can’t ruin a night like this.”

“Thank you, Neme!” Oskar took a bow mockingly, before turning to Martin. “Come on, Robert, wing me.”

Getting laid tonight would be the cherry on the cake for the perfect night Martin was having so far. But even more ideal would be if he gets it all. He found his inner peace, looking at Oskar getting up from the table. 

“I think I’ll pass.” 

“Huh?” Oskar looked surprised for a brief moment, like this was the last thing he expected to hear. “You guys are fucking killing me.” He dramatically threw his hands in the air and dropped back to his stool.

“I am sorry, I’m not interested.” Martin explained and shrugged. “You’ll have to do it on your own tonight.”

“What is it? Her friend is not your type?” Bwipo asked, slightly bobbing his head to some depressing cover of some famous song.

“No, it’s not that. I just… can’t.”

“And why not?” Oskar insisted, aware of his bitter tone. 

“Because of-”

_Rasmus._

Although, his feelings for the mid laner were as complicated as always, now that he was in a blissful state, Martin felt like nothing was holding him back anymore. He was lighter than air.

“Because of Caps.” Surprisingly enough, he answered honestly. 

“What the fuck are you saying, mate?” Selfmade snorted, sounding even more annoyed. “How the hell is that guy standing, once again, on my way to happiness?”

“Yeah, what is it with you and Caps anyway? You’re in love with him or something?” Bwipo joked and everyone started laughing. 

Everyone but Hylissang. The support’s eyes widened like he, at last, became aware of the truth. Martin looked down at his beer, grabbed the bottle and chugged it almost half-way through.

“Oh my God…” The Bulgarian began, but hesitantly stammered. “You _are_ in love with him.” He added quietly and the laughter subsided abruptly. 

All the heads on the table turned in Rekkles’ direction. The guys looked like every part of them was on pause as their thoughts were trying to catch up. 

“What? Is it true?” Oskar broke the silence, shocked.

Martin nodded slowly and took another big sip of his beer. The boys were staring at the Swede, unsure of what to do with this new information. Bwipo and Selfmade, who were sitting on both his sides, pulled themselves together immediately and grabbed him by the shoulders supportively.

“Well, if you go back in time and really think about it,” Nemesis began slowly. “it kinda makes a lot of sense.” 

“Yeah.” Martin agreed and started nervously peeling the label of his beer, but cracked a smile anyway. “I didn’t handle it quite well.”

“Jeez… That’s huge.” Gabriël whispered, still not able to lose the expression of stunned surprise. “Since when?”

“Let’s talk about that later.” He declared decisively and stood up. 

If he wanted to reach out to Caps so bad, maybe now was the time – the time when his brain was pumped up with endorphins and dopamine.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But I need to go do something now.”

He headed towards the exit of the bar, pushed the front door open and glanced at the wall of water. He completely forgot that it was pouring outside. But it was more than okay. Because he was happy. And the night was amazing, just as it was, because the heavy downpour finally washed away the curse of constantly loosing to G2. He pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head, wondering if this was enough to walk the distance to the office without getting his hair wet. No, it was impossible. 

He was about to go back inside for his umbrella, when Hylissang met him at the doorstep and joined him under the eaves of the bar. The support was holding the Swede’s umbrella. Martin smirked at him and grabbed the umbrella, but Zdravets held onto it tightly. Now Martin noticed the seriousness that was printed on his friend’s face.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but it can’t be good.”

What the hell was that? Zdravets should have just brought him the umbrella and smiled encouragingly at him.

“Let go.” Martin clutched the umbrella. 

“Not before you tell me what’s going on in your head.” The support pulled the umbrella insistently out of Rekkles’ hand. “Are you going to call Caps?”

Is this why Hylissang caught him up at the doorstep? To stop him? Martin just sighed, not responding to this question.

“For fuck’s sake…” Zdravets continued disappointed. “Now is not the time for that.”

“Exactly now is the time.” The Swede opposed calmly. 

If he wanted to confess his feelings for Rasmus, he should do it now – now, that he felt self-assured and comfortably in control. There couldn’t be a more ideal timing.

“You’re high on the win. You don’t judge the situation soberly.” Zdravets squeezed Martin’s wrist and pulled him gently towards the entrance of the bar. “Come on, please, just… get inside and let’s celebrate.”

Nonsense. The Bulgarian just didn’t know what he was talking about. Martin didn’t need this discouragement.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.“ Rekkles said, hoping his friend could hear him over the heavy rain. “This is the first time in months when nothing prevents me from thinking clearly. I need to tell him how I feel.”

This conversation was making him exhausted. It was draining the energy that this spectacular night brought with itself. Why was Hylissang doing this? Weren’t the deceiving thoughts in Martin’s head that were bringing him down for so long enough?

“It won't be fair to him, Martin.” 

_Hm?_

“If you think I want to hurt him, you’re out of your mind.” The ADC sneered.

“On the contrary. I think you don’t want to hurt him, but this is exactly what will happen if you go.” The support explained and rested his hand on Martin’s shoulder. 

A lightning came like a rip in the night sky and illuminated Zdravets’ face, whose expression changed from worried to confusingly shocked. The support stepped towards him and looked closely into Martin’s eyes like he was searching for the last drop of sanity left in him.

“Holy shit…” Hylissang breathed out quietly. “Your eyes are bloodshot red.” 

“I am fine.”

“Yeah,” Zdravets scoffed. “I don’t think you are.”

“And you’re the one talking to me about not being fine?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The Bulgarian asked surprised.

“That’s right. I know you have problems.” 

They both were guilty of not sharing personal stuff with each other. And Hylissang was trying to give him the you-need-to-get-yourself-together lecture like he was a saint. And on top of that, to give this speech to a person that finally had put his demons to bed? 

“Friendship is a two-way road, Zdravets.” Martin went on, casually playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“How do you expect me to come talk to you when you’re in a constant delirium?” 

That wasn’t the response the Swede was hoping for. Constant delirium – not anymore. From now on, he was free. What delirium? 

“Stop it...” Martin sighed and his head fell back. “Stop acting like I’m all messed up and you feel sorry for me. Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

“I _am_ on your side.” Zdravets reassured quietly and adjusted his glasses. “This is exactly why I am here, trying to knock some sense into you. I don’t want you to screw yourself up again.”

Martin’s life did feel like a series of disastrous decisions in the past year. But none of those decisions were because he wanted to drag people through hell with him. This year, this nasty cursed year, woudn’t stop punching him in the face. But this night he finally got the courage to chase his happiness. He needed to get better and now the opportunity was on the horizon.

“You know me well. We see each other every day. We’ve played side by side for the past three years, so you know me well, no?” Martin almost whispered as he turned to look at his support. “Tell me then – do you really think it’s too late for me?”

“What?” Zdravets’ voice trailed into the storm. He looked baffled.

“Do you believe I can change?” The ADC continued, ignoring the lump in his throat. “Or am I just doomed to be the person I am? Is it too late for me?”

The Bulgarian was standing in front of Martin completely speechless – his mouth was frozen open. He was motionless. No, not motionless – he was stunned. Stunned like the impact of those questions knocked the air out of his lungs and he couldn’t remember how to breathe anymore. Then he closed his mouth and inhaled sharply through his nose, not taking his unblinking gaze off of Martin. 

For a second the Swede feared that he was going to hear answers to those questions that he wouldn't bear. Answers, that he couldn't bear. But instead of responding, Zdravets closed his mouth, unfolded the umbrella and handed it silently to Martin. 

“Thank you.” The Swede said, but the loud thunder muffled his voice.

Energy electrified Martin’s body again. He hurried under the heavy rain into the night. The large droplets were falling almost horizontally, which made the umbrella more or less pointless. The summer storm brought just enough coolness to his brain to wash away whatever fears may had arisen during the conversation with Zdravets. For the first time in forever, he sensed he was down the right path, he sensed that his tortured soul resonated with his damned mind. He was confident enough that this time, he would make it. That confidence was pulling him away from the pain of the past and the uncertainty of the future. Everything was under control. 

After he walked the few meters from the bar to the new Fnatic office, he climbed the stairs in the darkness and leaned on the front door. Suddenly, he established that he might be dead tired. Such a surprise, considering the fact that minutes ago he felt like he could conquer the world. He brought out his phone. The light that brightened his face when he unlocked the One Plus blinded him to a point when he lost control over his hand and dropped it on the floor. He covered his eyes with his fingers instinctively, but the pressure on the bruises was strong enough to cause him mild pain. He quivered slightly, as Zdravets’ voice bounced in his head, reminding him that he might not be as well as he believed he was. 

_You’re fine_ , he thought and reached his hand out to the wall to find the light switch by sense of touch. When the bulbs lit the hall of the building, he blinked blankly, trying to regain focus, but his vision was blurred. He wasn’t drunk. Half a bottle of beer couldn’t make him drunk. Couldn’t even make him slightly tipsy. 

Martin inhaled deeply and picked up the phone from the floor. He opened the empty chat with Rasmus and the adrenaline rushed through his veins once again. Tired? Who’s tired? Not him.

He smirked when he became aware that glaring at Rasmus’ name didn’t make him choke anymore. He felt cold-blooded. Now he had the balls to type the message he couldn’t type in the past two weeks. His fingers were jumping rhythmically as if in spasm.

Martin: _Hey, I know its late but do you want to meet up?_

He pressed send and locked the phone. He put the phone back in his pocket and took out his keys. 

It suddenly hit him that Rasmus might not answer. His mind drifted away for a moment. Rasmus might not answer. Martin would be able to add another failure to his list. Rasmus might not answer. His palms started sweating as he feared that he, yet again, was becoming a play toy of his own insecurities. Impossible. He had crawled out of the evil pit and he wasn’t falling back there. He was fine.

His hand trembled as he tried to unlock the door. The key didn’t fit. Of course, it didn't fit. This was the key for the original Fnatic office. Tripping. He was tripping.

 _Focus_ , he mentally slapped himself and frantically began to look for the right key. _You’re fine._

He stepped inside the dark office and a lightning illuminated the room like it was a day. His blood vessels shrank and the amount of resistance his blood met was critical. He nearly dozed off. There’s a certain level of exhaustion that equalizes to insanity, and for him, that was the feeling of his spirit dislocating from his body. Delirium. That was the delirium. 

Then the incoming sound of the message arrived and startled the fuck out of him.

Rasmus: _Where?_

So Rasmus agreed. What delirium? Martin’s mind was at ease. Of course, everything was under control, how could he doubt that even for a brief moment. 

The Swede texted him the address and overwhelming excitement filled his body one more time. Who's tired? Hot. He was just hot. Burning hot. He pulled the sweatshirt over his head and went to the balcony to cool off. 

He leaned on the rail, listening to the heavy downpour drumming on the street. His fingers trembled again when he reached for his pack of cigarettes. He took one, but he was hesitant whether he should light it up or not. 

His mind drifted again. 

He didn’t feel the need to smoke. He never did. The tar was making his lungs heavy and his throat sore, there was nothing pleasant it the act, besides the fact that it was destroying his body, mimicking the bad mental-state he used to put himself in. But he was good now. Oh, so good. He was no longer a victim of his thoughts, so there was no need to smoke. Martin was happy. Everything was under control. 

The cigarette slipped out of his hand and fell over the balcony, getting lost in the night. 

Tripping. He was tripping again.

Or maybe he could light up a cigarette because he was at the end of his ability to just sit and wait. Yes, that was plausible. People smoke when they wait for something. Or someone. 

_See? You’re fine_ , he reminded himself and smirked again. He took out another cigarette and placed it between his lips. He was about to light it up, but his phone signalized another incoming message.

Rasmus: _I’m here._

 _Huh? Did he teleport?_ , the ADC thought. He removed the cigarette from his lips in a heartbeat, crushed it in his hand and went to open the door. 

Rasmus was sitting there. Was he sitting there for real? Yes, he was. 

And he was soaking wet. 

_Classic Craps_ , Martin thought, looking the mid laner up and down. 

“Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah, sure.” Rasmus nervously ran his fingers through his wet hair. 

“You arrived really fast.” Martin exclaimed. Oh, he felt so good. “And haven’t you heard of umbrellas?”

“I thought I could get away without the umbrella. Our office is right next door.” Rasmus pointed out of the window to the building in view.

“Oh.” Martin chuckled. “What a coincidence.”

“It was not a coincidence.” The mid laner shrugged. “Perkz recommended this place to Mithy. He knew the office you ended up renting was empty.”

“I see. That’s why it’s good to have a decent relationship with your old teammates, right?” The words slipped out of his mouth.

“Right…” Rasmus agreed sheepishly, and looked down to the ground.

 _Why did I say that?_ , Martin thought, his brain feverishly searching for a way to control the damage. _Why did I say that?_

“Come on, take that jacket off.” The Swede said after an awkward pause and Rasmus did so. 

“Does it still hurt?” Rasmus asked slowly. Martin noticed him pushing his hands in the pockets of his pants. This disturbed him.

“What?” 

_What does still hurt?_ Oh, right. The bruises. He was asking about the bruises. _Focus._

“This?” The ADC pointed at his own face. “No.”

Martin stared for a second at the drops that were falling down Rasmus' hair. He grabbed a clean towel from a top drawer, unfolded it and passed it to the mid laner.

“It’s fine.” He rejected it, not taking his hands out of his pockets.

“Seriously, Rasmus? I don’t want you to catch a cold or something.”

Martin stepped towards him and after a moment of hesitation, he rubbed the towel on the mid laner's hair gently. 

He was confident enough to lean in closer and kiss him. It felt right. And it wasn’t a big surprise that the mid laner passionately returned the kiss. Martin stroked Rasmus’ face and moved down to his neck where he felt the Dane’s pulse racing under his fingers. His own pulse was also racing.

Rasmus finally took his hands out of his damn pockets and wrapped them around Martin’s body, pulling him even closer. The kiss made his whole being burn up and suddenly, the Swede wanted so much more. 

Then Rasmus just anxiously broke the kiss out of nowhere and pulled away. Martin was caught off guard by these unexpected turns of events, considering the fact that the mid laner, just a second ago, gave the impression that he didn’t want to stop.

_Why?_

“No. You… you can’t do this to me.” Rasmus mumbled with impossibly big eyes. “I am not a toy to play with.”

_Huh?_

“Is this what you think of me?” Martin asked surprised, frowning at the mid laner. 

“Yeah, this is exactly what I think. So stop fooling around with me, because there’s nothing worse than believing I have a chance with you when I really don’t.”

Silence. The tips of his fingers went numb. Panic started growing in his chest. 

Delirium. That was the delirium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What delirium?


	12. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one XD

Martin’s composure began to crumble immediately. The panic started tightening his throat. His mind went static, sending him into darkness.

“What are you up to?” Tim asked and threw himself on the bed in his hotel room.

“Oh my God…” Zdravets eyes popped out. “You _are_ in love with him.”

“We simply had a falling out.” Martin shrugged, sitting on the rooftop, looking down at Berlin’s twilight. “It’s hard to stay friends with your rivals, Rasmus.”

“Do you want us to lose the finals, Bwipo? Is this what you want?” Oskar was barely suppressing his laughter. 

“This is our spot for World’s!” Martin was restless, ready to jump out of his bed no matter what. “Please, Alfonso, there has to be a way. You know this is my freaking dream!”

“No wonder Rasmus couldn’t stay in Fnatic with you.” Wunder’s voice came behind his back, before the Swede turned around and punched him in the face.

“I provoked him, I was the one who started this fight.” Martin said to Sam over the phone.

“Who?” Oskar arched a brow. “Bwipo? He’s home, man. He left the office with you one hour ago, remember?”

“If you think I want to hurt him, you’re out of your mind.” Martin sneered at Zdravets. 

“Yep, it’s disgusting.” Rasmus declared after the first sip of vodka, but grinned anyway.

“Do you believe I can change?” Martin asked quietly, looking at Zdravets.

“You are stubborn and incapable of change, even if your life depends on it!” Rasmus snapped, tears were streaming down his face. “You can be the most consistent player in the west and still you’ll be the main cause for the failure of this team! _YOU _are the reason I am leaving!”__

__“It won't be fair to him, Martin.” Zdravets warned him._ _

__“I want this.” Rasmus grabbed his wrist, eyes full of longing. “I have been waiting for this to happen for so long.”_ _

__

__Thoughts making no sense. Brain cells completely scrambled. He squeezed his eyes, attempting to overcome the imminent implosion. He opened his lids in a flash, like he was trying to wake up in the real world. Rasmus was still standing in front of him and wanted more than what Martin was giving him right now. And in a strange situation like this, the Swede was forced to give this guy an explanation._ _

__“I am not trying to play with your feelings, Rasmus.” Martin began slowly. “You are important to me.”_ _

__“You seem to be really confused, Martin.” The Dane said and pushed his hands in his pockets again. “I get it, but your confusion keeps messing with my head.”_ _

__It probably didn’t look like it, but hurting the mid laner wasn’t exactly a hobby of his. The Swede started questioning what to do next or rather if he should do something. He felt like he had tortured Rasmus enough._ _

__“You’re right. Okay? I am confused as hell and on top of that, I am mortified.” Martin’s voice betrayed him and broke. He covered his face with his hands and groaned. “I just don’t understand myself.”_ _

__He paused to gather his thoughts before continuing._ _

__“The weird part is there is some familiarity to being next to you that I just can’t shake off. Not a memory from the time we were part of the same team per se, but echoes…” He stopped for a second to find a better word to describe the confusion in his mind. “…feelings that call to my intuition. And I don’t seem to be able to get over you.”_ _

__“It is not me who you can’t get over.” Rasmus scoffed and looked up at the ceiling like he was trying to hold back the tears. “You can’t get over yourself.”_ _

__Of course, he was right. The uncertainty rushed to the fore. What kind of relationship would that be? Push and pull, deep passion, soon followed by fear and paranoia? To love him and then to show distrust, only to hurt them both even more. Was this going to be that kind of a relationship? Partially, the uncertainty that he was not able to get hold over himself was exactly why Martin was dead scared to face the Dane in the past two weeks. Rasmus was making him not only weak, but also unable to accept that realization._ _

__“Yeah, I am not going to deny the fact that the past weighs me down. Part of me is thinking that I must be out of my mind for seriously considering being with you, but when you are in front of me…” Martin grabbed the mid laner’s hand. “you make me believe that maybe it is possible, it is possible to get over myself and just allow us to be happy.”_ _

__Why was he convincing him? Was he out of control? That was selfish. He was selfish. And weak. Selfish and weak. But he kept his feelings to himself for so long that now everything came pouring out._ _

__Rasmus just stood there at a loss for words, yet with an expression that gave away all his thoughts. Just like Martin, he was seemingly in an inner fight between what he knew and what he wanted. The yearning in his eyes showed that what was happening right now was not something that Rasmus would dare to wish for, even in his wildest dreams._ _

__“It’s not fair of me to ask you to stand beside me while I try to deal with my problems. But for what it’s worth…” Martin continued trying to stabilize his voice. “I love you.”_ _

__This was the only thing Martin was sure of._ _

__Rasmus closed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe his ears. He stayed silent for probably no longer then a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity for Martin. It made him question himself once again. He had let his guard down and gave the Dane the power to crush him. And honestly, he should do it. He should crush him. He should get out of this door, run as far away as possible and never look back. Rasmus just should know when the devil’s calling._ _

__“You…” Rasmus began uncertainly. It looked like this was simply too much for him to endure. “You do know how I feel about you.”_ _

__Martin nodded slowly. As a matter of fact, he did know for a very long time, always fighting that obvious revelation, always fighting the urge to comfort the crushed mid laner every time after pushing him away in denial of his own feelings._ _

__“I love you too.” Rasmus finally said._ _

__Martin released the deep breath he was holding for so long. He pulled him in a tight embrace, because just holding him was not enough, he had to feel every fiber of Rasmus strongly glued to him. He felt more alive than ever with the Dane’s head pressed against his chest. He was sure the mid laner could hear the racing of his heart clearly, even from five meters away. It was pointless to hide his vulnerability now, wasn’t it? He didn’t even notice when exactly during that conversation the tears rolled down his cheeks.  
\---_ _

__On the next morning, the first rays of sunlight woke Martin up. His arm was lazily draped over Rasmus, who was peacefully lying next to him. Being so close to him lighted Martin up inside and gave him a serenity he could never know without Rasmus being near him. It was like the breaths he was taking in, up until now, were not full and the smiles were not complete. The ADC clinched Rasmus from behind, wrapping his arms around the bare skin of the mid laner’s waist, and he couldn’t be more satisfied with life. But then he realized Rasmus was clinging way too hard to his hand this whole time, as if Martin was about to escape and vanish from the face of the world any moment now. This snapped Martin out of his half-asleep half-awake state and now his eyes were wide open._ _

__“Rasmus?”_ _

__“Yeah?” He muttered quietly, loosening his grip a little bit._ _

__“I meant what I said last night. I want to find a way to get my stuff together and be with you.” He whispered softly and kissed his shoulder._ _

__“I know you believe it now, but what will happen when we start competing against each other again?” Rasmus turned around to face the ADC who was now propped up on his elbow. “What will happen to us?”_ _

_He doesn’t believe in me_ , Martin thought. Could he really blame Rasmus for not trusting him after pushing him away for so long because of his own ego? 

__“What are we going to do?” Rasmus insisted._ _

__In the back of his mind, Martin knew the Dane was right to worry. The Swede gave them both hope. What if he failed to live up to those expectations? Martin was determined to try his best, but he had no idea what they were going to do. However, during the past ten hours he was on cloud nine for the first time in forever, so he pushed those worries away. That was the neatest trick in his book. He wanted to postpone the second he had to deal with his ego as much as possible and just live for the day. Maybe future Martin can think of it, present Martin could just enjoy the moment now, holding onto it just a little bit more. Just during this small window that opened up for him to breathe._ _

__“Okay, I will tell you what we are going to do.” Martin said and leaned down to kiss Rasmus’ forehead. “Now you will come with me under the shower, then I’ll give you some of my clothes, because you don’t have fresh clothes here, and then I’ll take you out for lunch. What do you say?”_ _

__“Deal.” Rasmus grinned enthusiastically._ _

__“And then we can come back here, because it’s Sunday and you are free to stay with me.” Martin said, kissing the mid laner’s neck._ _

__Rasmus’ face lit up brighter than the sun and he had that innocent soft look of the happiest person alive. For the first time in years, they were this happy in each other’s presence. Looking lovingly at each other, they both were in a full state of bliss, like there was nothing that could come between them anymore. And later, when Caps put on the plain black shirt with the small Fnatic logo on, sitting in the middle of Rekkles’ room in the gaming house for the first time in almost two years, goofing around before going out for lunch, it was like he had never left._ _


	13. The darkest hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello and welcome to the last chapter! 
> 
> Damn, it so hard to say goodbye. XD 
> 
> I am aware this story might be heavy on the angst, and I apologize if it made someone upset. This type of drama is what I enjoy reading (and I guess writing) and I hope the plot kept you interested and entertained. It was based on, and inspired by, real life events and real quotes that were incorporated in the chapters, but of course, the whole plot is a fiction. 
> 
> That being said, I sincerely thank you for the kudos and the comments, I appreciate every single one of you. <3  
> It meant the world to me to see that there were people who wanted to see the development of the fic.
> 
> Also, shout out to Angus and Julia Stone, because I wrote most of the chapters to their music XD

The Fnatic apartment was peculiarly full on this early Saturday night. Mainly because Rekkles and Caps were spending all nights during the past week together here. As usual, Selfmade and Nemesis were still in the office playing SoloQ, Bwipo was home, probably doing the same. The only one, who didn’t normally belong here at this hour on a Saturday night, was Hylissang. Around this time in the evening, he would be cuddling with his girlfriend on the couch in their shared apartment, eating popcorn and watching a TV show, or quietly reading a book next to each other. 

It was the first night in years that Zdravets felt forced to spend the night in the gaming house. He didn’t have a good reason for that – a reason like watching a movie with the others, celebrating a win or just hanging out with the guys. No, he had the worst reason of all to be here – he just had to get away from her. 

The doubt that this relationship was not repairable anymore overwhelmed him and he actually considered the option to cross the street and join Selfmade and Nemesis in the office for some games. Just to take his mind off of these extraordinary circumstances. He didn’t really enjoy playing _League_ by himself at night time, but he couldn’t think of a better way to bury his head in the ground. Besides, this could help him put himself in a better mental state for the finals against G2 tomorrow. 

The air in the kitchen was thick with the scent of the coffee that he just made for himself. The mug was still untouched before him. His eyes were fixated on the table, but he was looking right through it as the most gruesome thought crawled out of the pit of gloom that his mind had turned into: _What if this time it’s really over?_

“What’s wrong, Hyli?” Caps’ voice startled him. 

Zdravets didn’t even notice him entering the kitchen. He was wearing one of Rekkles’ t-shirts per usual. The boy poured himself a glass of water and drank it at once. 

“Nothing.” The support lied bluntly and finally sipped from his coffee for the first time. Coffee just didn’t taste the same anymore.

“Funny.” Zdravets paused and snorted in amusement. “Seeing you in the middle of the night here brings back memories.” 

Caps flashed his infamous crooked smile at the support and sat next to him behind the kitchen table. There was some kind of a strange, but pleasant nostalgia in this setting. Zdravets never thought he would be sitting again with his former teammate, and once friend, on this very same table. In a way, it was all the same, but was it really?

“Being here in the middle of the night brings back memories.” The mid laner drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. “Sometimes I wake up thirsty, disorientated and drowsy. I try to make my way back from the kitchen and I almost invade Nemesis’ room.”

“Oh right, it used to be your room.” Zdravets smiled at him sentimentally. “Old habits, huh?”

The last time he saw Caps in that room was the day the mid laner had a huge fight with Rekkles. 

“Is it very different now?”

“What? The room?” Zdravets asked, narrowing his eyes. “Yes. Very different.”

There was a haunting pause, one that seemed to evoke dozens of memories to flood their minds. They weren’t smiling anymore. They were just sitting there in that familiar kitchen, the walls reviving memories of events that seemed like they happened in a previous life. 

“So why are you drinking coffee alone at 9:15 in the evening?” Rasmus interrupted the silence.

“I don’t know what else to do. Maybe I’ll go to the office and play some games.”

“In the office? Why not home?” 

“I can’t go home.” The support answered.

Rasmus went quiet for a brief moment and then asked slowly with a sad expression.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t know.” It was hard to get out those words so he grunted, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes like that would help him put his thoughts in order. “Do you know the feeling of being terrified all the time that something is about to end, but the moment you realize it’s over still comes as a shock?”

Rasmus nodded slowly. 

_Of course, you know this feeling,_ Zdravets thought. _You’re dreading that this is your last night with Martin, as much as I’m dreading that this was my last night with her._

“Did you break up?” The mid laner asked quietly.

“I am afraid so. Or maybe we didn’t really break up. Maybe tomorrow she will want me back as it usually happens. And maybe I will cave in, because I want to save our relationship, but tonight…” The support sighed and put his glasses back on. “tonight, I feel so tired.”

Rasmus placed gently his hand on Zdravets' shoulder.

“I am sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

“There is. Tell me your strategies for tomorrow.” The Bulgarian laughed to brighten the atmosphere. 

“I can’t, I am a professional.” Rasmus laughed as well. “But if it will make you feel better… I’ll try to smurf on Teemo tomorrow.”

“It won’t happen if we pick it first.” Zdravets declared amused.

Rasmus smiled, but there was an immense sadness behind his smile and Zdravets perfectly understood the meaning of that. He sensed Rasmus’ concerns that if G2 defeated Fnatic tomorrow, Martin would not be able to put himself back together and that he would return to his previous slump. The mid laner started fidgeting his fingers like every time he used to do in the past when he was anxious.

“Hey. I know you worry, but this is bound to happen sometime, isn’t it?” Zdravets reached out to put his palm over Rasmus’ hands that were laying restless on the table. “Rekkles’ ego has to take the hit at some point. If it doesn’t happen tomorrow, it will happen eventually.”

“Rasmus, what takes you so long?” Martin’s head popped behind the doorframe. “Zdravets? What are you doing here?”

“Getting some caffeine in my system before playing _League_.” The support got up and carefully placed the half full coffee mug in the sink. 

“How come? You almost never play _League_ by yourself at this time.” Martin simply stated and leaned on the doorframe.

Zdravets smiled at Martin, but his eyes landed on Rasmus while replying. 

“One’s limits have to be tested at some point, no?” And with that he went out the door. “You guys have fun.” 

He walked out of the apartment and crossed the street to the office. The evening of September 5th was chilly and the sky felt oddly dark and low. He was wearing only a t-shirt and the cold against his bare skin caused his body to shiver. He breathed in the seasonal transition and breathed out a calm kind of reconciliation. 

_Hm_ , Zdravets thought, _autumn came earlier this year._  
\---

After Pete dropped them in the original office, the Fnatic boys had to go through what felt like the longest encouraging speech in the world after they had just lost the finals against G2. Mithy was usually doing a great job cheering the guys up, but now none of them had the strength to believe in his words. They all just patiently waited for the speech to be over and one by one left the office.

It was again one of those days when Zdravets knew that the moment he entered the world of social media, he would have to face the hate. He was just not ready for that right now. He decided it was best for his peace of mind to remain in the office for a little while. The Bulgarian threw himself on the grey couch in an attempt to rest his eyes a little bit. He wanted nothing more but to empty his mind and absorb the silence. But there was no silence. He grunted, sat himself up and glanced deadly at the clock on the wall. _23:19_. 

_Was this clock always that annoying?_ He thought and headed towards the kitchen. _We should get rid of it for good._

He looked through the window and noticed that one of his teammates must have felt the same need to be away from everything right now. Martin was sitting on the stairs in front of the building, quietly smoking in the darkness of the night. Just one week ago, he was smiling so wide on that very same place, when he brought Rasmus. But that simply seemed so long ago now.

Normally, Zdravets would just leave him alone with his thoughts, because he knew his friend well. They were not only a good duo, supporting each other in the bot lane, he’d liked to think that they were also a good pair in real life as well. During the past years, Zdravets became familiar with Martin’s weaknesses, strengths, needs and concerns. The Bulgarian knew that the ADC usually needed some privacy after a though loss. Yet, it was one of those slightly chilly late-summer-early-autumn nights that provided people with more reasons to draw closer to one another. 

The support stepped to the fridge to take out two cans of beer. He made his way to the front door passing through the living room. Another quick glare at the clock. _23:21_. That only seemed to confirm that time was slowing down. 

When he left the office, he purposefully closed the door gently and cleared his throat to declare his presence, because he didn’t want to startle Martin. But he got no reaction from the Swede, who seemed to be in a very different place mentally. He was once again trapped in his own mind. 

Zdravets just sat on the stairs next to him and handed him one of the cans. Martin looked blankly at him and grabbed the beer without saying anything. Part of Zdravets wanted to assure him that they would overcome the difficulties, that they will be okay again, but another part knew that right now this would be as useless as Mithy’s earlier speech. And honestly, he wasn’t even sure he had the strength to voice out words he didn’t believe in anymore. So instead, they just sat in comfortable silence next to each other for a while, calmly slurping from their beers. At last, Zdravets could rest his mind as he was watching the long tree shadows under the streetlights, crawling menacingly up the stairs.

“How are you?” Martin broke the silence first.

“I’ve been better.”

“I am getting a hint that you might need a friend.” Martin said weakly and took out another cigarette from his pack. 

_Hm, another one?_ Zdravets thought. _Really?_ The support wasn’t used to witnessing Rekkles chain-smoking. He rarely even witnessed him smoking.

“You and I both need a friend, no?” Zdravets looked at him and saw the tortured smile on Martin’s face, right before he put the cigarette between his lips. The flame of the lighter illuminated the Swede’s features and gave away how tired he was. 

“Dora and I broke up.” The Bulgarian finally said. 

Martin put down the can of beer on the stairs, placed his hand on his support’s forearm and squeezed it gently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes, but I still need time to assimilate what happened. I am still not sure how we got there.” The support replied, staring at the cigarette smoke, dancing in the dark. “But it’s… it’s just strange to think that yesterday was probably our last time together, you know?” 

“I know.” Martin took a long puff from the cigarette, it made Zdravets wonder if that didn’t make him dizzy. “I guess you never think the last time is really the last time.”

Martin turned his head and looked Zdravets in the eyes. The ADC seemed rather resigned a moment ago, but now that the support saw his eyes, he spotted how crushed Martin was. 

“I am sorry we lost.” Zdravets said quietly after a moment of silence.

“Me too.”

“Now is my turn to ask. Do _you_ want to talk about it?” 

“It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right?” Martin shook his head. “I mean, that we lost to them.” 

“Says who?” Zdravets asked with a shrug. It was always hard to lose to G2 for the whole team, but for Martin it must have been even worse now. G2 took a lot from him in the past years after all. “This is just how you feel.”

“Am I making this harder than it is in reality?” Martin asked, but he didn’t look exactly sure he wanted to know the answer. 

Zdravets knew how much of an importance winning was for Rekkles and how much it was killing him to watch his old teammate, and now lover, thriving in another team. 

“Come on, Martin. Give yourself a break. You compete against your boyfriend. Of course, it sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” The Swede sighed, blowing the smoke out of his lungs. “What are we going to do?”

“I think you should focus first on the fact that Caps is your biggest rival, and then we will see how to deal with the loss as a team.” Zdravets suggested calmly. “But it looks like you have an important decision to make.” 

Martin nodded solemnly. 

Words just left them to make room for companionable silence once again – the one that was not awkward or odd, but the one that made them feel comfortable enough with each other to share it together, the one that was a sign of a well-worn friendship. Yes, sometimes, oh sometimes, it was hard to be Rekkles’ teammate, let alone friend. But no matter the circumstances, they were accepting each other. No terms, no judgement. That simple. In some ways, this was more intimate than having a deep heart-to-heart conversation. 

Winning is the ultimate career goal of every player. This was why Hylissang was bringing his problems home. This was why Caps left in the first place and this was why Rekkles cried after every lost final. Both, Caps and Rekkles, were standing on each other’s way to success. Nothing that was happening was personal, but at the same time – it was personal.

Zdravets was witnessing how Martin was resenting Rasmus, because he couldn’t accept his feelings for someone that broke his pride in the past. And now, the ADC’s pride was once again broken, and frankly so was his own. All those lost opportunities to prove themselves started to mess with Zdravets' head as well. Being afraid that no matter what he did, he wasn’t good enough to win anymore, led to always second guessing his abilities.

But Martin’s pride was coming from a darker place. Zdravets knew there was something more for the Swede, something that even Martin himself couldn’t quite understand. He was destroying himself and everything that surounded him. 

Rekkles had built his life around the idea that he had to reach the top at all cost. He seemed ready to give up everything for his dream – to give up legacy, friendship, love. To give up everything for a dream that he believed would somehow make him whole. 

But it wouldn’t make him whole. 

_“Do you believe I can change?”_ Martin asked him back then. 

_No,_ was the first answer that crossed Zdravets’ mind. It crossed his mind so fast, that it scared him. He even felt ashamed for thinking it. But sitting next to Martin, watching him smoke, now the Bulgarian was thinking the same. 

What Zdravets came to understand when he heard this question was that Martin was realizing something wrong was going on with him. Well, this must be worse than not realizing it at all. It was eating him alive and yet, he couldn’t do anything about it. And then what?

 _“Or am I just doomed to be the person I am, hm?”_ Martin asked him back then.

But perhaps, this was doomed for real. There were these rare moments, like this exact one, when Zdravets was looking at Martin and he was thinking that Rekkles wouldn’t be Rekkles if he chose something or someone over the possibility to climb to the top. And perhaps, it was bold of Martin to act against his core self-destruction, which always hauntingly reminded him to light up that cigarette, to drink up that glass of vodka, to get another punch in the face, to build those walls around his heart, to shut Rasmus down.

 _“Is it too late for me?”_ Martin asked him back then.

Or maybe it was rather too early for him. He had a long way to walk before he can defeat his demons. Or before his own mind defeats him. 

Rasmus was another victim of Martin’s mind. He had been in love with Rekkles since forever and the second the Swede reciprocated those feelings, he was about to lose him. They met under circumstances that helped them open their eyes for each other, but those same circumstances couldn’t allow them to have a healthy relationship. 

There was nothing left to say, besides -

“Maybe one day, when all of this is behind us…” 

“Maybe.” Martin answered, staring into empty space. His eyes were completely dead.

 _What a damn shame._ Zdravets thought and looked up at the night sky. _Pride would always be the longest distance between two people._

The sound of Martin’s phone ringing snatched them out of the reverie. He took it out of his pocket. Seconds ago, Zdravets was certain about the outcome of the events. But now, as he watched Martin glare at his phone screen with Rasmus’ name on it, the Bulgarian thought that maybe, just maybe, he could be wrong. Well, he hoped he was wrong. The support had no idea what was coming next.

“You should probably take that.” Zdravets whispered and patted carefully Rekkles’ shoulder before he stood up and stepped inside the office. Martin’s hoarse voice came behind his back when he picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to share your thoughts with me, whatever they might be, please do. I'll get back to you for sure.
> 
> And as always, thank you for reading.


End file.
